Ophelia

chapter three

3:0
christian adler

My eyes follow the reflections of light on the shiny corridor as I walk back from the girls toilets.

Why must the school paint its own building the worlds most horrendous colours? I shudder to think who picked the colours out. With the new head teacher filling the walls with pointless posters with famous people - everybody from old Chinese philosophers to Bob Marley - and their 'inspirational quotes'. Probably because he's sick of the colour scheme too.

I walk past the courtyard that is located in the middle of the school, glass windows surrounding it so that everybody can see into it, (not like there's any use for it, we aren't even allowed in, not even on sunny days) the flag standing erect and with my close friend's, Samuel's, pride flag hanging from the white pole, it adds a lively splash of colour to this horrible place.

Hushed whispers in the corridors make me stop in my tracks, it's too quiet for even my Super Hearing. I can only catch fragments of the conversation.

Tentatively, I continue walking forwards, careful not to make a sound. Looking around the corner, to see who is talking.

Two guys my age are staring at my oil pastel work that has been hung up at the front entrance of the school. Their backs facing me. The build of their bodies hidden, one underneath his jacket and jeans, the other through his black jeans and leather jacket. The one on the left is slightly shorter with his hoodie draped over his body like a blanket.

"Nobody in this school should know that spot. Nobody but us Supers."

I freeze up. Supers? It can't be.

My heart is racing a hundred miles per hour as I carry on watching, breath caught in my throat. The slightly taller one that's dressed in a black leather jacket and black jeans is still staring at the drawing.

"We're just going to have to keep an eye out for unusual activity. Maybe there's somebody with superpowers who don't know it yet."

Oh.

My.

God.

It's NightShade.

I can make out his voice from anywhere.

What on Earth is he doing here?

Okay, breathe, Lenna, maybe it isn't him.

Okay never mind, it actually is.

What do I do now?

Taking a breath, I calm myself down, setting my shoulders and continue on walking. The fall silent when I walk stiffly past them, making sure to alter my actions, posture and walk so he can't recognise who I am. He can't otherwise everything will be taken away from me. And my entire world will uproot. Again.

I don't fear him but I fear the past they'll force me to return to. I can't have it. I won't have it.

"Hi, excuse me." I freeze in my path as the other hoodie boy calls me. Plastering a bright, sunny smile on my face, I turn around.

"Yes?"

I look at both of their faces.

The one that isn't Nightshade has dyed red and blond hair in a sharp fringe that isn't too long, the back of his hair spiky like a hedgehog.

He has a cheeky, friendly smile, warm green-hazel eyes as he looks at me. Black skinny jeans, chains hanging from the waist band, Doc Martins, a white T-shirt with a gold pendant hanging from a thin, delicate golden chain, an old (probably expensive) plain beige jacket that is covered with badges over his body.

The other guy beside him - NightShade - is gorgeous. I've only known him for his body and voice, but can we just say, if I ever get to sit on that face, I'll be a very happy woman.

He has tanned skin, a natural tan, brown smouldering eyes framed with a set of lashes longer than mine. High cheek bones and a sharp, square jaw, near full lips and inky black hair.

Holy cow. The breath in my throat catches at his smirk against pearl white teeth.

"I'm Keiran and this is Christian, we are just wondering if you know who drew this."

My heart thuds in my chest. Should I tell them? Surely if they find out from other people, they will know that I lied .

I smile innocently at them.

"Why do you want to know?"

Keiran and Christian look at each other in silent communication.

"The drawing is gorgeous, why are you asking us?" Christian asks, my skin tingles at his hot gaze. I thank myself for wearing shapeless clothes so he doesn't recognise the shape of my body. Most of the time, if we're not fighting, we're staring at each others bodies. I even got to get him to admit that he's seriously attracted to me before.

"Oh, well thank you. It's nothing really, just an oil pastel." I grin as if I'm happy thay I've received praise from him but surpsie surpise, I'm feeling the exact opposite.

Yes, I've heard his name before around the school. Christian Adler, notorious bad boy in this school. This guy is known to be bad news.

Huh. He must go to great lengths to hide his identity. Like me.

It's confusing.

The look of surprise flickers across his face before he quickly masks it up, eyeing me suspiciously.

His mouth opens to ask me another question. Just as his lips form the words, the bell shrills in our ears.

Relief floods through my system and I smile apologetically at him before I depart.

Hmm. Christian Adler, nice to finally meet you.