Wingspan(Paranormal, Young Adult) MAJOR EDITING**

twenty five

I usually got irrationally upset whenever someone got close enough to me.

So how come I didn't respond with a harsh shove to his bicep? I should have said he was making me sick. But that wasn't necessarily true, was it?

I grimace at the weight of the paper in my hands, trying to see it from another person's perspective. Now that I finished I had nothing better to do but agonize about the grade I was not going to get even though I listened to what Mr. Honeycott had said. I didn't want anyone, especially Mr. Honeycott, to see what I came up with.

This new assignment was a stretch, given my short-handed skills. And yet, in spite of that fact, Mr. Honeycott overlooked my lack of proper aesthetics all in thanks to the headmistress and her standardized rule grading system which; without not, I would have flunked.

"I tried to warn you," I tell Josh, blowing a piece of hair that landed in front of my face; It fluttered limply, holding loyally to the thin layer of sweat that was forming on my forehead. God, I was hot. It didn't matter how cold it was, the arts building was a furnace. "It definitely isn't some of my best work." We both laugh at that because we knew the truth.

Despite the confused glare from Mason, Josh and I were having fun discerning the rough sketch. He thought it was a blue whale but I didn't see the resemblance.

"Geez." Josh hands it back to me with a smirk. "Not to sound proverbial, but what are you doing in Art lll Honors?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"It was the only spot left. Unless I wanted to be stuck doing trigonometry," I confide in him. I didn't see the point in lying about it.

And Josh wasn't just some boy I met. He was sincere and patient as I explained the situation and offered his sympathies. Normally, I wouldn't be so willing to talk about myself. I didn't know when this new journey would begin. But I knew it would start with me being open to the possibility of change.

And wouldn't you know it, but that didn't scare me off. I would gladly persevere on if that's what it took not to end up calculating Trigonometric functions of special triangles with side lengths A,B,C using Sines and its equally tormented cousin Law of Cosines.

Josh grimaces. "Tough call." The corners of his mouth turned upward to show his amusement.

I laugh and playfully bump his shoulder. "C'mon, let's see it," I say. "I already showed you mine. Its only fair," I tease him.

Josh sighs but wearily gives in anyway. "Fine. I haven't finished getting the shape just right on his forehead or swept the bangs to one side, so it's not complete. You wont be able to really see it until I shade and color in the background."

I roll my eyes and take a look at it for myself.

And marveled at the piece in front of me. I didn't touch it because I didn't want to smudge anything accidentally, or alter his work in any way, but I knew my facial expressions were saying it all.

Josh continually amazed me. Just when I thought I knew who he was he showed me that I was only beginning to understand his genius.

It was so obvious Josh had a natural talent for micromanaging even the slightest of details.

The portrait of Mason held a familiar likeness right down to the curvature on his nose that depressed in the middle with a cute button protruding tip and the light dash of freckles speckled on Mason's perpendicular cheeks.

I had to admit Mason was an overall nice looking guy with warm brown skin that I bet never sunburned, unlike my skin that almost always peeled after sun exposure.

My favorite was Mason's eyes because they never betrayed what he was feeling. That, too, had taken some getting used to. Though I was attracted to the color of his eyes, I was glad to have a friend that truly cared about my wellbeing.

I liked that I never had to second guess myself around Mason. His actions made it perfectly clear from the moment we met that he genuinely wanted us to be friends which it made it easier for me.

Being acquaintances with him was a breeze and uncomplicated. He was kind to everyone, so it made it easy to like him. Still, I couldn't help but feel slightly special whenever we talked.

Now, out of the beginning stage of befriending Mason, which had been uncharted territory for me since it had been a while since I'd made a friend, I could say that I had no problem topping Mason wit for wit.

Mason was legendary throughout social circles in Starkhouse. I'd witnessed first-hand how alluring his presence was, and I once overheard someone say having Mason at their party made for double the booze and more girls willing to attend once his name was mentioned.

"Every man is his own ultimate creation." Mason was easygoing and lighthearted, so I found myself caught off guard when his voice filled with hot venom as he added the remark that masks were a victim's pathetic excuse of not being able to live in the real world.

I glance up into those green jewels, silently asking him if he's okay and smile at Mason to let him know I was ready and willing to listen if he needed it.

We held eye contact for a heartbeat, his fierce glare calculating as if he were offended by something I did on accident, or didn't agree to that irritated him. I wasn't sure if I did anything wrong or even if that comment was directed at me.

I knew he was mad, though, because I'd never been on the exchanging end of such a hostile, pin-you-down stare.

In making small talk with Josh about my dumb luck had I accidentally mentioned something about my past, something that couldn't be taken back and ignored without remembering what I'd said?

I was reeling the last few minutes before mason disrupted what was a pleasant conversation in my head, too stunned to speak because I was worried that I might have unwittingly babbled too much too fast.

I never knew the right thing to say that wouldn't come off as cold and distant, or how to act when people touched my arm without seeming to notice even though I did and that's what had made me so clumsy and the conversation that much more difficult to maintain. I was fidgety and awkward and calculating my next move.

Heartbeat throbbing in my ears, I swallowed a hard boiled egg back down.

I was getting nowhere fast.

When Mason gestures at us curiously with the end of his pencil, and uses it to point back and forth at me and Josh, I groan to voice my annoyance.

A hard, grim line set in his mouth. Mason raised a black brow at me. He was intent on telling me what was what and I wondered what happened to upset my friend so bad that he would get this aggressive.

Masons face was as cold and hard as the formidable statues that sat perched on top of the buildings in Starkhouse.