Smoke

26: Morning

I sat on the bus, breathing in the cold, dark morning air. My skin was cold, the seat was cold, my stomach and heart and breaths were hot, were burning as they left. But no smoke yet, which was good.

Oliver got on the bus, sliding into the seat quietly next to me.
"Hey." He said.
"Hi." I responded, glancing at him, glancing away. Even if I was breathing smoke, I couldn't see it.

We sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the bus rumble and some other kids murmuring. My thoughts were twisting until they were only one thought, one idea caught and held until I said it out loud.
"Oliver, how are you supposed to analyze the books in Skill Management?" I asked quietly, looking at him again. He was looking back, meeting my eyes, thinking.

"Well, its kind of," he drew a breath, "difficult to explain." He said, stopping there. I continued to look at him, listening to my heartbeat and our breaths and the rumbling bus and cars as we headed to school.
I continued staring at him, waiting, until he talked again.
He shook his head. "You really want to figure this out?" He asked me, our eyes locking. I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"It's really a personal thing when you analyze these books..." he trailed off, trying to get out of it.
"Oliver, I want your help on this." I said decidedly, eyes stuck on him.

"Okay, alright. I'll help. Where should we meet?"
I thought for a second, looking around, leaning back into the seat.
"My house?" I offered, glancing at him again, and he nodded.

"Alright. I need your address and the time." He sighed.

I gave him my number and my address, and texted it to him.
"Tomorrow is fine, right?" I asked, looking up at him from my phone.
"Sure." He nodded, looking up from his own phone.

"Thank you, Oliver." I smiled at him, putting my phone away again.

"No problem." He said, eyes meeting mine. "What are friends for, right?" He said, smiling at me, and I smiled back.

Maybe now I would finally understand what the class was really about, or if it was just as useless as I expected. And mother wouldn't pressure me with wanting to help me with the class. I would gain more control with my power, and in time for the next theater rehearsal.

I relaxed into the bus seat, putting my phone away, waiting until we got to school. Things might be getting better, I thought, glancing at Oliver, looking outside at the lightening morning air, the sun rising brightly and turning the air orange and yellow from a grey blue.