Yara doesn't want to be here. It's evident in the way her shoulders slumps and every expression as the teacher calls on her is wooden. She is doodling on the corner of her paper, and pauses, biting into the tip of her pencil. She scribbles whatever she feels is important and sighs in relief when the teacher finally leaves. Yara shares this class with no one she knows, and it makes for a boring session.
Slowly, she pushes her sweater back to her wrists, and takes all her books in the crook of her elbow before walking away. Raven and Vivienne catch up to her, and they walk to their lockers which are side by side.
"I heard Kira and Atlas left the party together after you left. The cheerleaders are kissing her ass because they think that your sister-" Vivienne starts.
Yara corrects, as she takes out her AP calculus textbook and her pencil case. "-step-"
"...Right, stepsister and Atlas are a thing. They think she's their gateway to become upper listers, but considering neither Atlas nor Kira are upper listers. I think it's a moot point for Kira but for Atlas..."
Raven cuts in. "I was in the bathroom earlier and I heard Isabella tell someone that Atlas would join you all for lunch today." She reports. The tip of Yara's boots clunk against her locker, and the sound almost distorts amongst the low mutters as it travels to Yara's ears.
"Oh well." Yara's hand shakes slightly, and she shrugs. The cold is particularly worse today so she dons the school plaid sweater, and the ridiculously ugly skirt and thigh high socks. Her hair is parted in the middle and tied back with a bow, and ever so often, she feels it loosen. She hears Raven gasp, and she turns to see Atlas and Tanner walking down the hallway. The darker skinned boy is wearing wire frame glasses and he pushes them up ever so often. Atlas's sweater lends him the air of a scholar, and the look he gives Yara's makes her knees almost weak.
Tanner looks smug, the curl in his lips arrogant and everyone clears a path for them as they walk by. He winks at Yara and she rolls her eyes. His game is weak and childish. Yara's perception of people is one of her greatest strengths, and she knows Atlas is far more cunning that Tanner prides himself on, perhaps the blond knows and that's why he keeps Atlas close.
She ignores him, and closes her locker. "I have to go, I have AP calc next and I can't be late. See you girls later?" They nod, and immediately Vivienne starts to flush. Yara's left brow lifts scrutinizingly.
"I also have calculus, may I walk you to class?" Atlas. He's behind her, and she can feel the hallway quieten to a hush. Yara throws a lock over her shoulder and turns to him. The collar of his white shirt is ironed sharp enough to cut, he wears silver rings that glint dully when he waves to the girls behind her. His eyes are sharp with humor, and lowers when he talks to her.
Yara smiles uninterestedly, and he smiles blindingly at her. "I bear no harm, I don't know where the class is. I was a little distracted during my tour yesterday." His voice is charming, and raspy and her fingers curl against her binder.
"During which bit did you get distracted? I can help with the rest of the tour later." Vivienne cuts in. I guess that nouveau riche didn't do it for her. Atlas lifts his head to look at her, and if she could, Vivienne would melt into a puddle.
His voice is lower now, and very distracting. "You have beautiful elevators here. The interior is very... breathtaking." Yara would punch him, if she could. "Thank you very much, but I'll figure the rest out myself." He stretches his hand as if to lead her. Yara waves to the girls and they begin to walk when she realizes their direction.
"That's not the way to the class."
He hums, and she hears the distinct sound of flicking and turns her head to see him with his lighter. "I know. I want to get my books first." Her boots click with every step and she can feel stares on her back, whispers follow her every move, her uniform, her books and the beautiful boy standing beside her. Atlas's locker isn't that far from hers and he quickly takes out his books before turning in the opposite direction.
"The elevators? Really?" She asks after a beat.
Atlas shrugs. "You have beautiful elevators."
"You are a terrible liar." Yara states.
He laughs. "Who said I was lying? Or do you think I was talking about something else?" The elevator is right before them. She presses the button for their elevator to open, and it does. Atlas then pushes the button for their floor and settles beside her. The air is much slower in the elevator, and everything seems more quiet. Atlas is breathing much slower, and she feels dizzy and not sure of if his much closer proximity is imagined or true.
"This elevator is gorgeous, don't you think? The padding for the floor is particularly nice. The silver bar, and the mirror is so aesthetically pleasing, right?" She finally retorts, her eyes fixated on the doors of the elevator.
Atlas pushes his glasses up. "You didn't call me." He says quietly, although his lips want to twitch.
"Washed my hands." Is her short reply.
He turns to her finally, and holds up her hand that's curled against the silver bar. Yara doesn't know where Atlas's gotten a pen but he has one, and writes his number again. His hands are scalding hot, and she can feel her inner shirt damp. Atlas leans in closer, and whispers. "Call me, Yara."
"Doesn't this elevator ride end?" She says as she pulls away from him.
Atlas calls her again. "Yara..."
"How did you figure out that I'm Z?" Yara asks, the question is dumb and she doesn't know why she'd ask that. He's a member of the Harding family, information like hers is easy to obtain. The elevator doors open and there's a lot more people than she expects to be on the floor. They all linger around the doors and disperse with naughty, mischievous expressions. Her dark eyes sweep over the crowd icily and they move faster.
"You only use a certain type of brushes and paint. I searched the producers and suppliers until I found you." He explains simply. The bell rings, and Yara almost flinches. She almost believes him, but he's a Harding and no one ever trusts a Harding.
She briskly steps out and Atlas follows suit. "If I do the painting, what's in it for me?"
"I'll pay you three times the price of your most expensive painting." Atlas says suavely. His finger brushes his collar and smiles down at her. Yara rolls her pretty eyes, and hums. Her books are arranged in her other hand, not the one Atlas had previously held. That one is still hot, and buzzy.
Yara walks to the door and Zane is staring at the board with a clenched jaw. Tanner and Arlo are whispering between themselves, Isabella and Olivia are giggling as they peer at the phone between them. The rest are people she doesn't care to acknowledge. Atlas is behind her and when she pauses mid-stride, he does too but she can feel him press against her back.
"Sorry." He whispers.
She turns to him. "Is Westwood your punishment for making your father angry?"
Atlas's smile is fake, and anger flashes in his eyes. "At least buy me dinner first, love." Before passing her by and taking a seat next to Tanner. Isabelle turns to him, and flashes him a bright smile which he acknowledges with a similarly flirty smile. Zane beckons to her and she sits beside him.
"Bad day?" She asks, when she sees her older brother curl his lips frostily.
He is almost seething. "You have no idea."
YOU ARE READING
icarus
Ficção Adolescenteyara harrington knew she was forgetful, it was one of her particularly worse traits so she wrote on her hands all day. notes, numbers, reminders and on a particularly strange day, atlas harding's number. extended description inside.
