Glass Dragon

Chapter 1

Aya kicks the ball to me and I'm staring of into space. "Dragon" she calls to catch my attention. I kick the ball in a backflip and everyone gasps. I don't get why their so surprised that I can do a stunt like this. "Nice stunt, dragonfly" she teases, ruffling my hair. "Oh, I haven't heard that one before" I say sarcastically. She giggles then grabs my hand pulling me down the path to my house. "Stop,stop,stop,stop" I say quickly when I see a white bunny crossing the way. She stops and I pick it up to pet it. "It's so floofy."
"Is that even a word?"
"Hm? I dunno. It is now."
"Your hair is floofy" she says trying to straighten it. I wave her hand away "sto-p."
"Why don't we take it along and you can ask your mom if we can keep it?"
I look up at her with hopeful puppy eyes because she's never been able to say no to them and won't let anyone else "what if she says no?"
"She won't" she says taking the bunny and helping me up. She gives him back to me once I'm up and I hold the adorable bunny close to my chest as I happily skip home. I kick off my shoes at the door as I walk in and Aya follows. "We're going to my room" I say, not stopping to look at her. "Okay" she says almost to cheerfully "hey, are you two dating yet?"
"Mom!"
"No Ms.Flie" Aya responds, twirling.
"Dragon Jamie Flie! You two have known each other for what, ten years now?"
"Mom" I repeat feeling the blood rush to my face. "You're blushing" Aya giggles and skips to my room. "Am not" I say quietly, hiding my face in the bunny's fur. I walk to my room and Aya's sitting on the bed. She's beautiful but I can't tell her that. Every time I try I choke on my own words and she laughs. But it's okay. I like to hear her laugh and see her smile. I like the way she looks, only about seven to eight hundred people on this island and she isn't a famous artist. She should be though. She's not beautiful in the sense of having lots of money to change her clothes every ten minutes but in a ghetto sense. She's always worn that grey tank top, cut-off shorts, denim half-jacket, and Persian blue high-tops. I take out my canvas, easel, and paints with its palate. Painting her face first admiring every detail of it and moving on to everything else as well as the bunny that left my arms for the bed beside her and the many other animals that have always seemed to love her. Once I'm finished with the painting I turn the easel so she can see. "Man, it's like a mirror" she says smiling and looking at it as though I'm a warlock and it's my odd creation "you're scary good at that."