Hush.

8::Sparks

I stared down at the blank notebook before me, unwilling to glance up and meet Mrs. Hayman’s eyes. It was the beginning of December and I didn’t have a lick of my senior project done.

“Annie.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Yes?”

“It’s blank.”

I sighed. “I know.”

“I just—I would have thought you’d have started by now.”

“Me, too.”

She closed the notebook, tilting her head as she regarded me. “What’s wrong? You’ve never had a problem finding stories before.”

I shoved the book back in my backpack. “I know, Mrs. Hayman. That’s the thing. I want this to be big, special, meaningful, but I don’t know where to start. I haven’t found that something yet.”

Mrs. Hayman’s lips pursed, but her eyes were twinkling. “Miss Davis, you’ll make a find journalist when the time comes. Assuming that’s what you want to do, of course.”

I nodded. “I would love that.”

She tapped her desk as the bell rang. “Do what you must do, darling. I have complete faith in your abilities. And if you ever need any help, you know where I am.”

I nodded, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Students started streaming in, so I shucked my backpack over my shoulder and headed out. I actually had a lunch, which was a weird thought. A whole freaking lunch, with an apple, and a sandwich, and a bag of chips.

And I was starved.

I paused when I entered the lunch room, surveying the area. On the one hand, I had my friends seated at the usual table, deep in conversation with each other. I saw the open space, meant for me, waiting.

And then I looked out the window and saw Ezra, the only kid outside, leaning up against a tree and doing origami. He wore his usual garb, jeans and a fitted long-sleeved tee, along with a beanie cap on his head. How was he not freezing?

I had two minutes to decide, I knew, before somebody at my table caught sight of me and beckoned me over, and sealed my fate. Did I want to sit with them and talk about the usual crap high schoolers did? Not particularly.

Plus, I was even wearing my new jacket. I felt invincible.

Mind made up, I strode toward the courtyard doors and right to Ezra. I plopped down in front of him bagged lunch in my lap. He glanced up for a moment, seemingly surprised to see me. I smiled in return, pulling out a bag of potato chips.

“Hello,” I greeted.

He nodded.

“What are you making?”

His finger pointed to something beside him. I craned my neck and saw a book, and a picture of a rose.

“Ooh, that’ll be so pretty,” I said.

He smiled.

I devoured the rest of my chips, an uncouthly habit my dainty friends would have been appalled at. I picked up a package of fruit snacks, ripped it open, and held it out to Ezra. “Want one?”

His eyebrow lifted in question. He shook his head.

“Oh, come on. I know you do. Everybody likes fruit snacks.”

He sighed and held out his hand. I dumped a couple into his palm, and he popped them in his mouth. Then he resumed trying to create the rose. I watched with genuine interest.