REJECTS\\M.C.

-2-

-hannah-

I look up when Ms. Meridan says my name, her hand gestured to me as she grabs that Michael guy's arm and drags him over to my desk. He looks extremely uncomfortable as his light colored eyes stare at me in worry. As he gets closer, I actually notice the mixture of green and blue in his iris, mainly a light green that makes them appear grey at a distance. I quite like the color, feeling inspired to recreate it later if I get some free time to paint.

"Hannah, this is Michael. Michael needs a tutor," she beams at me. "You asked me for some extra credit ideas earlier this week and I think this is a great one."

I curse myself for not putting restrictions or specific limitations on what I was willing to do for extra credit, but I love Ms. Meridan too much to turn her down. She always has the best intentions and I know she wouldn't offer him up to me if he didn't really need it. I look at him, watching his gaze as he eyes my platform Docs, travel up my fitted plaid pants, to my oversized zip up hoodie that would actually fit him quite well, until they land on my face.

His shoulders relax as he stares at me, making eye contact before Ms. Meridan steals my attention, "So whudda say? Do we have a deal?"

"Sure," I shrug before I look at him, his eyes still on me.

"Yeah, okay," he seems to agree reluctantly with a sigh.

"Wonderful," Ms. Meridan claps her hands together, "I'll let you two work out your schedules. Seeya tomorrow."

I leave Ms. Meridan's class, Michael following me before his long legs bring him up next to me. He doesn't say anything but looks down at his phone, his thumbs moving quickly as he types something.

"So, um, do you want to exchange numbers," he waves his phone at me, "That way I know when or where to meet you."

"Sure," I say and tell him my number.

"Cool, I'll text you right now so you have mine."

"Okay," I reply as I feel my pocket vibrate.

He continues to walk with me, at first making me nervous but then I remember he takes the same route. But then he will eventually branch off once we get to my street and he will wander off to wherever his house his. I half expected him to ditch me and join another group to walk with when I don't talk, but he doesn't. He simply slides his headphones over his interesting purple hair, leaving the ear next to me exposed.

We make it to my street and I begin to turn before his hand lands on my shoulder. I quickly shake it off and he pulls it back, swallowing.

"Sorry, I just wanted to know when you wanted to start? I have plans tonight if that's okay, but I can meet tomorrow."

"Yes, that's right," I sigh, already forgetting our compromise, "Can you meet tomorrow morning before school in the Library?"

I watch as his face scrunches up, his top lip smushing up into his round button nose, making him look very child-like, dispite his stubble already coming through his pale skin on his jaw.

"I really don't like mornings. I hate mornings actually. I'm not a morning person."

"Okay," I huff. "Lets meet tomorrow after school. But Michael we will need to meet some mornings."

"Yeah, okay," he releases an exhale and adjusts his backpack straps and looks out in the distance.

The sun illuminates behind him, shining through his purple hair and displays all the different hues. The colors intrigue me and I try to memorize them, deep desire to paint them, too. I really hope I can paint tonight. I would like to escape to a world of beauty and feel happy, even for a moment.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Hannah," he smiles as he looks down at me, my name coming off his lips making my whole body feel warm.

I stare at him in awe, wondering how my name in his voice has suddenly become the most beautiful sound to my ears. I shake my head and step back, lifting a hand to wave. "Bye Michael." I quickly turn away, scared and confused at the feelings swirling in my chest.

Stop it, I think to my chest. I roll my eyes at my feelings acting like a dumb teenager girls and swooning at the sight of a handsome boy. Michael is attractive, edging hot. But I don't date. Probably never will. I have a goal, I have a plan. And some wannabe rocker hooligan is not going to get in the way of that.

I unlock the door and step inside, waving to Mrs. Patelle as she pulls the trash bag out of the garbage can. The door to my room is closed, but I find my bed freshly made with a pile of freshly washed clothes to be put away. I place my backpack on my desk and sit down, taking out my phone to see two text messages. One from my dad and one from an unknown number.

I open the unknown one first, confirming just as a I thought, from Michael. I save it to my contacts and add his name. Michael 🙄. Next, I open my dads, chewing my lip. He informs he has a late business deal to attend to and will most likely be gone until tomorrow when I am at school. A smile curves on my lips as I quickly take out my books, determined to complete my homework so I can paint with the wonderful new colors given to me by my new tutee.