I glanced over at the clock, checking the time. Red numbers glared back at me. 3:27. I must have checked a billion times. I'd always had weird sleeping schedules, dating all the way back to middle school summers. Despite my frustration with being up so late when I had classes to be at in hours, I couldn't stop the nostalgic smile that softly spread across my face.
I was finally here. I was a student at the San Francisco Art Institute. Second month in and I loved it. I'd always been a passionate artist, but now I was able to channel the emotions perfectly and create not just amazing works, but works that were part of me and my emotions.
I passed this place all the time when my family and I would spend a day in the city and I always dreamt of attending courses here. Sure, I had a possible future with my music and I excelled in all my classes by far. But art was something that touched me more than anything else. And in my two months and the previous summer, I had already been offered a job from Pixar animation. I would be designing and sketching characters from my dorm and sending them in until I finished at the Institute where I would take on a full time job with Pixar with a possibly high position.
Sighing, I rolled over for the umpteenth time, hiding my face in the pillow, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. I didn't stir when I hear the door to the room creek open, figuring my roommate, Annabeth, was finally back from partying late like she did a lot. The door clicked shut and I heard the lock flip. Feet padded softly over towards our beds and I kept still, not wanting Annabeth to know I was awake and start a conversation with me.
A hand fell on my upper arm, shaking it none too gently. I groaned and turned further into my pillow as if I was barely woken up and trying to return to sleep.
"I know you're awake, Alana." A deep voice huffed.
I froze. That was certainly not Annabeth.
"Look at me." The voice demanded.
"Who are you?" I croaked, feeling my hands start to shake. I'd never heard this voice before. Not that I could remember.
"Look at me." The words were spat out with much more force and whoever this was yanked my shoulder, flipping me on my back.
I hardly recognized the boy who loomed over me, the hood of his hoodie pulled up, hiding his face. I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to see under the hood and the rest of his face. I saw the corner of a lip turn upwards in what looked like a smirk and the man shook his head. He pulled down the hood.
"Do you know who I am?" He asked gruffly.
"No." I whispered, shaking my head, trying desperately to single this face out in the many that I've ever seen. "I've seen you around here, though. You're a student too?"
"I am." He leaned closer, his messy black hair falling into his eyes and framing his pale face which looked white in the moonlight. "But this isn't the only place you should know me from."
"I'm sorry." I shook my head, feeling awful that I didn't know this guy when he obviously knew me. "But, I don't remember you."
"Didn't think you would." He scoffed quietly, his breath skimming across my cheeks. "We only went to the same school for four years."
"We went to high school together?"
"We did." He confirmed.
"I'm sorry I don't remember, but why are you here?"
"You're slow, aren't you, Alana Gray?" The boy chuckled quietly, planting his hands on either side of me and leaning closer. "I've been in love with you for a very long time, I believe. And you've never even noticed me. What, are you too cool for people like me?"
