Painting Flowers for Juliet Sky { on hold }

i: Juliet

i: Juliet

He looks worse today.

As I watch him from my seat in the corner of the cacophonous cafeteria, I cannot help but notice the violet bags that hang from his eyes like little flags of defeat, the unkempt, curly knots of hair atop his head, the rumpled clothes that bear an uncanny resemblance to the ones he wore yesterday.

With every day that passes, James appears to be slipping away a little more.

He doesn't notice me watching him. In fact, he doesn't seem to notice much of anything. James sits quietly, energy drink in trembling hand, surrounded on all sides by a mass of muscled boys that liked to believe they were men. They had all been friends with his brother, Daniel, before Daniel had graduated the previous year. They make impolite jokes, these "friends" of his. James doesn't laugh at them.

"You okay, man?" A messy, blonde-haired boy slaps James on the shoulder, as if they're great old chums in on some grand conspiracy together.

"Of course," James answers in a monotone voice. It's cold, and I can hear the scratch in it even from two tables away. He manages a weak smile to accompany his reply.

He's more tuned in to the group after that, as if he realized that whatever charade he was attempting to keep up was failing.

I watch him smile fakely, nod as canned laughter sputters from between his chapped lips. I am already flipping to a fresh page in my notebook by the time I notice the emptiness in his eyes.

you have static eyes

but a colorful mind

i wish you knew

everything you need

you have inside

I lift my pen from the paper and quickly read over the scrawled verse. I like it; colorful... it fits him. Or at least the person he used to be.

After another stealthy glance in his direction, which reveals him to still have his cloudy eyes glued to the greasy cafeteria table, I tear the sheet of paper out from the bent spiral of my notebook and carefully fold it into a neat square. A couple of James's friends glance up at me and snicker as I leave the lunchroom.

I smile at them.

My sneakers squeak against the dusty tiled halls as my eyes search for his locker. When I find it around the corner of the East hall, I slip the paper into the vents at the top. I will it to land somewhere he will discover soon; he seems to need it more and more as the days trickle by.

The bell rings shrill in my ears, signaling the end of lunch, and I jump, moving hastily to duck behind a nearby concrete pillar.

James approaches with visibly weighted steps. My heartbeat picks up as students stumble past and he reaches a reluctant hand up to spin the combination on his locker. The quiet clicks of of the plastic dial intertwine with the words that sprint through my brain like a mantra:

"If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain."

My breath catches in my throat when James tugs the dented door of his locker open and the tiny slip of paper flutters to the ground, landing atop a dust bunny by his feet. He drops his head to stare at it, eyebrows crinkled by confusion. The concrete pillar is rough against my fingertips as I carefully peer around it, trying to get a better view of him.

He looks stunned simply by the existence of the paper, and leans down to pick it up in a daze. It falls open in his palm, and my fingertips begin to go numb with nerves.

At first he makes a fist, as if to crumple the sheet, but then thinks better of the action and allows his eyes to drift across the lines.

His head snaps up when he finishes it. I duck behind the pillar once again as he scans the hallway, looking for the person that is behind what must surely be a prank of some sort. It may be just my imagination, but I swear that the left corner of his lips is begging to twitch into a smile.

"Dude, what's that?" One of his friends hollers from the end of the hallway.

James quickly crumples the paper and stuffs it deep into the pocket of his jeans. When his head raises again, a fake smile is plastered onto his lips. He shrugs. "No idea. Nothing important."

My heart dips down into my stomach, but I quickly scoop it back up into my chest; there isn't time for my feelings now. So what if that particular poem did not lift his spirits? I can-no, I will-try again.

The friend tips his head in acknowledgement before gesturing towards the science hall. "Come on, we're going to be late for Astronomy."

James slams the door of his locker closed and trudges off to class.

I follow behind him quietly; he does not notice me. We share the same Astronomy class, have for almost two months now.

I am not sure he even knows I exist.