Fae

He first came up to me in the library while I was agonizing over a term paper. I was busy, furiously writing away, and he sat down across from me, giggling. I thought it was strange, in all truth. Why would a guy I’ve never met before sit and laugh at me? He studied the way I wrote, his eyes reading the paper upside down. I tried to cover the page as discreetly as I could, but was only met with more giggles. Great, I was being mocked as well.

“You spelled necessary wrong.” A small voice reached my ears, light, and definitely masculine. Young boy voices always sounded pleasant to me, but I wasn’t going to tell anyone that. I stopped writing, and looked up at the fair haired speaking. The ignorant masses were filing by, either checking out books, hanging with their friends, or just loitering around for lack of anything better to do.

“I did not,” I said in all stubbornness. The boy had a look of disgust and curiosity, as if I amused him—as if my way of doing minding my own business was atrocious.

“Right here.” He stood up, and came right by me, pointing to the misspelled word. Well I’ll be darned. Kill me for not adding one more “S.” Obviously satisfied that he was correct, he sat back down, and started eying me again. I, for one, went back to work. English papers were such a bother, and I didn’t want to have to do it later. On he went staring, his green eyes eying me over like trying to decipher an interesting puzzle. Finally, I'd had enough of it.

“I’m—“

“Leaving,” the boy said, getting up. I stared at him strangely, trying to figure him out. Was he finishing my sentence, or finishing his own (of which I hadn’t been paying attention to)? And without so much as a goodbye, he left, leaving me with a half-finished term paper, and a library full of insignificant people.

The second time was at lunch. I had no friends, and probably never will. After gathering various food items, he came traipsing over to me like a long lost bud. I raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior, but he didn’t seem to think anything of it. In fact, I don’t think he noticed the whirr of people around him at all. He sat down at my table and plopped grapes into his mouth, one after the other. I settled on my own lunch instead of dealing with him. It consisted of a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich—one I happily threw away—and a soda.

“Purple.” I looked up from my intriguing meal to see him staring at me again. It looked like he wanted me to say something. But how should I know what to say?

“Yeah, that’s my favorite color,” I told him. His eyebrows rose, and he cracked a toothy grin. It was crooked and funny, but somehow...it fit.

“Is something funny?” I asked. He went back to staring at me, his grin gone. He shook his head, and became interested in his food again. I pressed my lips together, all the while thinking whatever floats your boat. I settled for sipping my Mountain Dew and watching students pile in line for the student store, people fake choking each other, and idiots everywhere.

“Thank you.” I looked up to see him leaving yet again. I didn’t even know his name. Where did he come from and where did he go? Why did he situate himself near me?

The third time that week was when he asked me out to homecoming. Since it seemed like no one else would go with him—or me for that matter—I told him I’d love to go. The night of the dance, he picked me up dressed from head to toe in formal wear. Not that tradition isn’t nice, but I didn’t expect it.

When we arrived, we got some food, and acted opposite of the other couples there. It seemed he liked to play mind games, and and so we spent our time guessing what my favorite movies or bands were. Surprisingly, he got them all right—all of them except for one. He had told me to come up with a question for him to guess, and I told him to guess what I thought about him. He eyebrows had knit together, obviously thinking hard. He had opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as fast. What he told me instead of answering the question was shocking.

“Cyric,” he said. I smiled.

“Raelyn.”