𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐂𝐄; rigel wilde

vii. 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐬

There was a strong wind that morning.

It bent the blades of grass and wiped the sky clean of clouds. The air was as clear and fresh as citrus detergent. February had always been mild and warm around here.

Rigel's shadow slid along the asphalt in front of me like a panther formed from molten lead. I watched how he stepped forward precisely, one foot in front of the other. Even the way he walked was domineering.

I had kept my distance from him ever since we left the house, dawdling behind warily as he walked ahead without even a single glance back.

I had not felt peace since the previous evening.

I had gone to bed with his voice ringing in my head, and woke up feeling it in my stomach. No matter how hard I tried to get rid of it, I could still feel his smell on my skin.

I thought again about the quote he had underlined in that book, the words like an indecipherable song. The more I tried to make out a melody, however, the more I crumbled underneath the jarring dissonance of his actions.

A moment later, I collided into his back and yelped. I hadn't realised that he had stopped. I put a hand to my nose, and he looked at me over his shoulder, annoyed.

"Sorry," I burst out. I bit my tongue and looked away from him. I still hadn't said anything to him since last night and it was embarrassing to blunder around him like this.

Rigel started walking again and I waited for him to get a few paces ahead before doing the same.

After a few minutes had passed, we crossed the bridge over the river. It was old, one of the first things to have been built in the town, and one of the only landmarks I'd noticed from afar the day we arrived. A few construction labourers were busy with roadworks. Norman complained every day that they made him late for work, and I could understand why.

When we reached the school gates, I noticed something on the side of the road, something that pulled at my delicate heartstrings, stirring my childlike soul.

An oblivious little snail was recklessly slithering over the asphalt. Cars were thundering past, but she didn't seem to notice a thing. She was moving so slowly that she would have been squashed under car tyres so, without even thinking, I launched myself in her direction. I would never understand what came over me, but maybe I was most myself when I wasn't pretending to be like other people. It was a necessity for me to try to help such a small creature. It was pure gut instinct.

I stepped down from the sidewalk and picked her up before she tried to cross the road and meet her death. My hair fell over my face, and when I saw that she was all right and all in one piece, my face broke into a spontaneous smile.

"I've got you," I whispered, realising too late how stupid I'd been. I heard the rumbling of an engine. A car was speeding towards me from behind. My heart leapt into my throat. I didn't have time to turn around before something forcefully yanked me out of the way.

I found myself back on the sidewalk, my eyes wide and staring, and the furious sound of a car horn blaring in my ears.

A hand had grabbed the shoulder of my sweater and was still gripping it firmly. When I met the eyes looming above me, I stopped breathing.

Rigel was watching me with his jaw clenched, his gaze as cutting as steel blades. Suddenly, he let me go, almost with disgust, and the now baggy part of my sweater fell down to settle back on my shoulder.

"Fucking God," he snarled through gritted teeth. "Are you finally trying to kill yourself?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't say anything. I felt full of disbelief and hurt. Rigel was so fucking instable it drived me nuts. I wanted to scream at his face. Before I could do anything, he turned his back on me and headed towards the gates, leaving me standing there.

I watched him walk away, with the little snail still cradled in my hands. There were a lot of girls standing around, watching him go and murmuring. After the fight on the first day, the boys warily let him pass, while the girls ate him up with their eyes as if hoping he'd hurl himself at them, too.