Breathe

Chapter 13 - The Other Boy With Stars in His Eyes

 Standing next to Esmae was a boy, dressed messily with his untucked Oxford and slacks, with the brightest blues that rivaled the Marianas Trench. He also had this toothy smile that seemed to bright up the room, and his laugh was as soft and light as a bell. But with his slightly hunched back—probably due to some sort of strange teenage insecurity—and lighter yet still dark hair, it was obvious that he wasn't Phil. His face held a similar smile, but it didn't shine as bright. His eyes were like the same blue, but they weren't as bright, either; it was as though he was an off-brand or discount Phillip.

After they reached past the pillar that blocked my view, they turned and immediately, Esmae noticed me. Flushing a little, she turned away and tried to redirect her attention back to the boy. However, he had followed her gaze and saw me, looking right at them. With a similar stride as Phil, he went up to me, much to her displeasure. Quickly, I minimized my windows before they arrived.

Grinning a little, he said, "Hello!" His voice was strange—both high and low—and I couldn't tell if it was because of his accent or the timbre of his voice.

"Hello," was all that I said in response.

He pulled out the chair next to me and swiftly sat down. With his elbows on the table and his chin resting in his palms, he looked at me. "Haven't seen you here before. What's your name?"

"Kirk," Esmae murmured, trying her best not to look at me, "we came here for a reason... and this isn't the reason."

Turning to her, he lifted a finger and shushed her. "I know, I know, Mae Mae—believe me, I know what we came here for. And we both know that it won't take us that long, anyway, so we should be able to hang around for a little bit before teach gets suspicious."

In a lower voice, she asked, "...Then why don't we get it over with?"

Either he ignored her little statement or didn't care because all he did in response was turn back to me. His cheeky grin spread farther and his eyes turned into soft crescents. "Anyway, what's your name? You're kinda cool looking. You know, with that whole white hair and eye thing going on. Where do you get your hair styled? I've always wanted to try really light hair—always thought that it'd look good on me. Could you refer me to your stylist? I swear I won't steal them away from you."

"It's natural."

His eyes widened and he leaned in closer. As he spoke, I could almost smell his breath. "Whoa, that's cool! Has it always been white? Can I touch it?"

He reached out for a lock, but I moved away. With a forced smile, I said, "I'd prefer it if you didn't. And yes, it has always been white."

Accepting my response, he gave me a dejected look and pulled away. However, immediately after that, his face relit like his energy hadn't faltered. "So, what's your name, white-haired dude?"

"It's Alastair." I pointed to Esmae. She jumped a little from the pillar that she was slightly hiding behind. "I'm friends with Esmae."

"Really? No way!" He looked back at her. "She never mentioned that she had a cool friend like you, and I've known her for almost a year now. What's up with that, Mae Mae?"

Her eyes darted away, falling to the grounds, and from where I was sitting, I noticed that she was gripping the pillar a little too tightly. "It's nothing, really. I just... well... really..." She groaned, walked over to me, and pulled me aside.

With an uncharacteristically strict face, she crossed her arms and glared at me. "What's your deal, Al? Why'd you have to bring me up? Gosh, all he asked was your name!—if you're going to amuse him, just tell him that much, okay?"