Honey-Green

Chapter 1: The Reintroduction- Part 1

The rain outside cascaded down the window. The cool wind from the wet, little droplets rushing to the ground pushed against the seal in the window until it finally made it through. The soothing feeling of the small, gushing draft brushed Odessa's face gently. She was glad for the slight relief of heat from her face.

The rain outside was suppose to be snow. Being that it's the middle of December, the school board has requested an indoor heatwave. The olive green, soft knit sweater she had put on earlier this morning had been a mistake that she seemed to never learn from. This is Ohio. Nothing, weather wise, ever goes to plan. If she had put on only a t-shirt, she would have been soaked to the bone the whole first half of her day. And on this day, it had proven to be particularly could in her opinion.

The drowning sound of the rain banging on the roof and the air conditioners that had yet to be taken out by maintenance, rung unimpeded through the quiet room. It was hardly eight in the morning and already the teacher had started her lesson. Something about the bonds of chromosomes, Odessa had hardly been listening.

She huffed as she allowed herself to stare blankly at the piece of paper she had been using to take notes. Odessa had always been a great student. Turning in her work was never hard for her, even as she got like this; though she had a hard time paying any attention. If nothing interested her she would likely ignore it. This was one of those times. She had already gone over all of this with her tutor, Griffin, at her home.

"Odessa, am I interrupting your daydreaming?" The gravely, worn voice of the woman in front of her pushed into her ears - rather evasively.

She forced her head up and wiped the cringing expression off her face, "No. I'm sorry." 

The woman adjusted her high-rise pencil skirt and clear her throat, though she knew that harsh grating sound wouldn't go away.

"At least look more interested. I know you probably know this already, so try to help someone grasp the concept." The gravely texture of her voice had gotten more forced, and Odessa felt the need to cry. 

"Yes, ma'am. I really am sorry," the watery knot in her throat signaled the woman's retreat. This happened all of the time. Something, even the slightest reprimand, would send the girl into a salty slump of tears. Her peers had dubbed her 'The Crybaby', of West Grove High School.

A snicker came from behind her and she bowed her head. Pale blonde curls rolled into her face as she tried to shield herself from the judging eyes of the boys around her. A few wet tears found their way down her face and onto the sheet of paper. She wasn't ashamed, but it was always a little embarrassing. To have people assume that you're weak because you care. It has been something she never liked to confront. Her pride.

Odessa knew she was a strong willed person. She hated taking orders, but her dominate side only showed when she was drunk or in front of her brother. In public, she would never dare to speak out against someone older than her. It wasn't how she was raised. She supposed the tears were her bodies way of rebelling against her administrators. Even if she wouldn't.

And hour passes and she has heard the bell for this hour to end, and she was ready to leave by this time. She wanted to go home. Her classes were to happen in the same room anyway, but she never looked forward to the greedy eyes of her friend, Gunner. 

Each class, they had a different seating arrangement. Gunner would sit in the back of the class for the first hour long class. He had chosen it three days before Odessa had joined the advanced students in their learning. The second class was Chemistry, and Gunner was to move to the third seat from the back. The seat next to her. 

She smiled as she could feel him leering at her from his seat. A common practice he had taken up the day they had become friendly towards each other. Gunner, with his messy clothes and bed head appearance, was a looker. Supple lips, angled jaw, and rough movements made him seem unapproachable. And he was very unapproachable. He was never looking to make friends, and the fact that he had reached out a hand to help her last year was a shock to her and himself.

"Dessa, Do you have a notebook I can have? I don't have any paper left in this one", Deep and smooth, Gunner's rumble of a voice slumped it's way into her ears. It had a way of showing his emotions. She knew instantly that he hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. As usual.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a brand new note book. He never had paper and she had learned long ago to just give him the whole thing. He liked to draw instead of actually pay attention, and when he did write notes they were a total of five pages per lesson. 

He thanked her and glared at her cheeks for a moment, but chose to leave it be. He knew, like everyone else, about her habit. It hurt him to know his friend wasn't well. It was usually the reason he glared at her. He could tell it flustered her when she got like that, from what he was ignorant, but he wanted to help. They both knew they'd have a talk about it before, during, or after lunch. He wouldn't let it go.

The door to the classroom opened about half way through the lesson, and a young familiar face stepped through its' threshold. Long black hair, clearly run through by a hand, draped the head of the teen. Curling at the ends as strands looped around the boy's ears. Full brows sat well over deep set, honey-green eyes. His jaw looked able to crush a walnut with its structure. He was gorgeous. Odessa recognized him immediately, and she was shock. Her jaw falling open and laying in her lap as he looked directly to the teacher; who had yet to notice his presence.

Gunner noticed her expression and leaned ever so slightly over to her, "Do you know him, or are you that thirsty?"

She shut her mouth and glared at him. A simple gesture to close her mouth would have been fine, in her opinion. 

"I know him." She said solemnly. Odessa had thought he was never coming back, and in truth that might have been better if he had stayed away. 

"Name." Gunner's demand was quick and she would have force her hand down his throat if she hadn't been so mentally conflicted.

"Essex." She whispered. At his name, the boy at the front of the class looked through the students- searching for a familiar face. He eyes landed on her blonde waves. His expression soured. The gruesome look had heads turning in her direction. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Not from the look, but the onslaught of memories crushing her head in a rushing wave. She missed him. She hated him. She wanted him. And he felt the same, but they weren't the same as they once were. 

And they never would be.