Wings

You Don't Say Much, Do You?

I stared across the top of my book at the new guy. He seemed to be the kind of guy who would join the jocks or the populars. He had light blonde hair the came to a slight point at the top of his head and bright green eyes. He actually reminded me of a stereotypical jock. He had a perfect smile, a strong jaw, a muscular build and he was tall. Almost taller than our Homeroom teacher, Mr. Jenkins. Even his clothing seemed to be the Jock-type. He was wearing a tight light blue v-neck t-shirt and faded jeans. I quickly looked back down at my book. I wasn't paying any attention to the words on the page. Only the words that were coming from Mr. Jenkins' mouth.

"I would like you to all give our new student a warm welcome. Why don't you introduce yourself?" I heard him say. I peeked up again.

"Alright. I'm Chris Roberts. I just transfered here from North Dakota. I've never actually been to New York before but my Mom says it's amazing. I'm excited to live here. Um... I'm really into playing football, soccer and baseball. But I absolutely love to read and study." The new guy's voice was bold and strong. I wasn't exactly expecting the reading/studying thing, but the sports thing made total sense.

"Okay then, Chris. Why don't you take a seat. There are lots of them left open." Mr. Jenkins looked around and I glanced around too. The Jock guys were over on the other side of the room, grinning away as Chris looked for an open seat. I looked down at my book and bit my lip. I continued reading the book where I had left off. I already knew that Chris wouldn't sit by me. Nobody ever sat by me. I just sat there, reading the words that were typed in perfect lines on the page. There was the sound of footsteps and I caught a glimpse of movement beside me. I turned my head and I was surprised to see Chris sitting beside me. He gave me a big smile.

"Hey. Nice to meet ya. Can I sit here?" He asked me in a quiet voice. I could hear Mr.Jenkins speaking to the rest of the class. I swallowed hard and nodded quickly. I turned back to my book and I kept reading. I could sense Chris' eyes on me and it made me feel very awkward. I swallowed hard and glanced out of the corner of my eye, looking at Chris. He was looking over at me.

"What's your name?" He whispered. I bit my lip and looked him up and down. I then pointed at my backpack. My name was written in big bubble letters. I turned back to my book and took a deep breath. I settled back against the seat and continued reading.

"How long have you gone to school here?" Chris whispered. I closed my eyes and laid my head down on the wooden desk.

"Ms. Johnson? Are you alright back there?" I heard Mr.Jenkins ask. I sighed and lifted my hand into the air, giving him a thumbs up.

"Okay then." Mr. Jenkins replied. I let my hand fall to my side. He continued to go on with his lecture. I lifted my head and picked my book off the desk. I pulled it into my lap and closed my eyes. There was a moment while I just sat there, with my eyes closed and my breathing deep.

"You don't say much, do you?" Chris muttered. I bit my lip and suppressed a smile. He would find out eventually.

The rest of the class was long and uneventful. Chris kept asking me small questions, but I refused to answer. I just kept reading my book. When the bell finally rang, I reached for my backpack and stood up, holding my book to my chest. I started toward the door but somebody caught my wrist. I turned my head and saw that it was Chris. He was smiling sheepishly. My eyes were on his hand holding onto my wrist. His skin was pale like mine.

"Um... Isabelle? What class do you-" He began. Suddenly, Jacob, the school football team's quarterback, swooped in and put himself between me and Chris.

"Hey there, Chris! Just wanted to welcome you to our school! Do you need any help getting to your next class?" Jacob said as his friends converged in a huge circle around him. I turned my back as I heard Chris say:

"But I was just talking to Isabelle and-" He began. But Jacob cut him off.

"I wouldn't talk to her. She's the good girl. She doesn't even talk." I quickly began walking. I could feel Chris watching me. I went straight out of the room and went out into the hall. I hurried across the school to Algebra, keeping my head down. It wasn't like this had never happened before. Some new kid would come along, try to make friends, and they would just eventually turn their backs on me. That's why I never got close to anyone. I reached the door into Algebra and I realized how quickly I had been moving. The students from homeroom were still filtering out. I stopped and leaned my back against a locker beside the door into the classroom. I tipped my head up toward the ceiling and closed my eyes. If this happened all the time, then why did I feel such loss when Chris had been pulled away from me? I sighed as I heard the other people in the hall chattering incessantly. I lowered my head and turned to look at the Algebra classroom. I then entered and just kept my head up high until I reached my seat in the back left corner of the class.

Chris was in most of my classes. He was in my ELA class, World History class, my Biology class and my Advanced Art class. We even had Lunch the same hour. He sat next to me in every class, much to Jacob's astonishment. When it came time for us to work in Art, Chris slid onto the stool beside me and glanced over at me.

"So what are you drawing?" He asked. I glanced up at him and moved my arm. I had chosen to draw a picture of a girl standing on a rooftop at night with wind blowing her hair behind her. It was one of my best works. I smiled at my own pencil strokes and shading.

"Wow... Is that you?" Chris leaned forward more and studied the drawing more closely. I flushed and shook my head rigorously. Actually, it was a picture of me but it was from when I was in 6th grade. I flinched away from the memories of that horrible year and closed my eyes.

"It's amazing, Isabelle. I doubt any of the kids in this class can draw half as good as you." Chris continued. I smiled and bit my lip. Chris leaned back and looked down at his big paper. He then bent over his paper and began sketching. It was fascinating to watch him work. He had a look of extreme concentration on his face and he was biting his lip in a cute sort of way.

I shook myself and turned back to my paper. I then pulled out a box of expensive-looking colored pencils. I selected a navy blue and began to add color to the sky. I fell into a concentrated state and I worked for what seemed like forever.

Suddenly, the bell rang out above us and I heard the Art teacher, Ms. Vermie, shout an apology for not warning us. I quickly picked up my drawing and put it under the windowsill. I glanced over my shoulder and I saw that Chris was still hard at work at the drawing table. I frowned and walked over, looking over his shoulder to see his drawing. It was a pair of wings. Feathered wings. I frowned again as I stared at the strong pencil marks. He was very good. All of his lines were perfect and his wings were drawn perfectly. Chris glanced over his shoulder and I quickly took a step back, our eyes connecting. I turned and reached for my backpack. I started toward the door and I suddenly heard the sound of hurried footsteps. I stopped and turned in time for Chris to crash right into me. I gasped as I stumbled backwards.