Eternal.

Chapter Two

Around the track; around and around jumping over branches that fell from the slimy woods; it had rained last night so everything was dull in color. The smell of wet tar stung my nose. Adding to that, the smell of the wet oak trees was making my allergies want to sneeze out.  I was training, alone, for my meet on Friday. I have six more days, and counting. My hair was damp in its messy pony tail. My white sneaker almost slid on a newly fallen leaf. The school next to me was hauntingly empty. No-one came to practice any sport on a Sunday morning. I caught a glimpse of the parking lot through the mist. A small car was pulling in; the only car there would ever be this day. I kept watching it waiting for someone to come out. I had to turn my head to run the other way. I felt like I had missed out if someone exited that car.

I almost turned to face the parking lot again when I was pulled back. I felt a hard grip on my shoulder, long fingers digging into my shirt and I was yanked backwards. I yelped. I turned around like I was going to hit someone. I lifted my arm and put my hand in a fist. Through dull mist I saw high cheek bones and gold eyes. This figure towering over me was the boy me and Lynn saw with his friends in front of the "Day old pastries" shelf.

 I was scared, because he looked different up close. He looked more dominate and according to his hand on my shoulder, he was certainly stronger than he looked. His hair was a weird dark burgundy that fell over one eye glaring down at me. He was close. I was scared.

            I felt a drop of rain on my nose, then another on my shoulder. He kept looking at me. I couldn't help but wonder, but I could help not speaking. He seemed to study me. He lifted a lock of my bangs that was stuck on my face. He studied my forehead. Then he looked down and seemed to study the stature of my nose. He touched the ends of my lips. That was enough. I swatted his hand away and he looked up at my eyes. He must have seen something in them because then he stepped a whole inch back. I kept looking into his eyes trying to send signals to him, trying to be more superior than he was. We never spoke, but he has seemed to collect a lot of information off me. What kind of information? Finally he opened his mouth. Nothing.

“Who are you?” I didn’t think, but I managed to say. I studied him just as much as he did with me. I paid attention to every detail on his face. His eyes. His gold eyes, deep with… something. He put his hand on my shoulder and looked at me with what I could make out as sympathy. I froze at his touch. Though, with him so near me I could smell him. He had a musty old smell to him that stung a bit. A bit familiar still. The feeling from him was like we’ve known each other for years but like I had recently lost my memory. I didn’t know him, did I? “Who are you?” he asked repeating my question. I was shocked and confused, this was just too weird. “I’m Brigitte. Who are you?”

“I’m…” And then he stopped. His voice is quiet and kind of inviting.  I waiting for him to say it but he didn’t. He stood there and looked at his hand on my shoulder and then took it off as if realizing he wasn’t supposed to do that. He wasn’t going to say anything. I got impatient and turned around to walk across the track in the soggy fog that now hung over everything like a fire that spread, and this was the smoke. My shirt was so damp it stuck to my body. I tread the mush before looking back. I looked back to where the boy was. He wasn’t. He wasn’t standing there anymore, so I looked around. I tried to look for him through the dense fog. I couldn’t see a human silhouette anywhere. I back towards the parking lot. I’m not sure if I could see a car there or not. It bugged me, so I walked towards it. While walking towards the parking lot, strangely, I felt eyes on me. I felt like someone was watching squint at the moisture in the air, and my shoes sinking into the mud a bit. When I finally reached the gravel lot, I did see the one car; but it looked old and pointless. I even felt no desire to look at it any stranger than I would another car. Then I became self-conscious, my hair felt sticky, so I went home disregarding everything that just happened. I told myself over again five times: It was strange, but it didn’t mean anything huge.