Hidden Beauty (Under Reconstruction)

One

Hey guys! I'm so happy to be able to re-edit this story, it's such a blessing! Any and all support would be welcomed as I muddle through the process!

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        The day was cool, dark clouds rolling over each other in anticipation for a storm. I inched closer to my sister, sensing the icy wind getting to her. She shivered slightly with each step. Her body, though fourteen years grown, was still small and lean. The breeze would freeze her easily. I fell into step beside her and lifted my hood around my face, relishing in the warmth it provided. The high school loomed in the distance, standing out starkly white against the gray sky. The bricked building always instilled a sense of exasperation in me; a resigned, empty feeling.
        North Wilshire Senior High prided itself on being the home of the Stallions. On each separated building, large, elaborate murals of horses decorated each side. Some were beautiful, others...not so much. At times it seemed the horses overshadowed nearly every student on campus, looking over us with flat, black eyes.
        Casey was staring straight ahead, music from her earphones sounding tinny and far away to me. As we approached the school, the picnic tables seemed to call out a reprieve from walking. My legs ached more than usual, due to the... extenuating circumstances of yesterday. I lowered myself onto the cool bench and Casey sat across from me, placing her head in her palm, light eyes flitting around the grounds. Never once did they land on me.
        I squelched the feeling of disappointment inside and settled down, pulling out the last bit of my Calculus homework from the night before. As I was solving the dividends (damn, dividends) for the final problem, I felt settle on the nape of my neck. This wasn't unusual. What was unusual is the fact that the body connected to the eyes placed itself next to me. I startled at the obtrusive presence and jerked my head up, hood still swallowing my face.
       
         "Can I help you?" I found myself asking, surprised by the edge in my voice.
        
        The boy-man-whatever, glanced up from the sheet of paper in his hands, looking sheepish. He had eyes flecked with green that seemed to reflect the weak sunlight filtering through storm clouds. His dark hair was mused up from the wind and his mouth had a quirk to it that I could grow fond of. At my voice, the quirk tilted up higher, creeping along the side of his face.

        "Maybe, I'm new and I wa-"
        
        "No, you misunderstood," I interrupted, sharply. "It was a rhetorical question." As in, conversation over.

                He blinked those bright eyes at me in surprise, but I ignored him, shutting my Calculus book with a snap. I offered only a sarcastic mouth twitch and moved away, collecting my things and heading towards the building I knew Risa would be in.
        I found her in the upstairs hallway of the 900 building, legs splayed across the tile floor. She had her eyes shut and the only movement that assured me the brunette was still alive was the tapping of her fingers against her blue jeans. Her eyes opened upon my approach,  the color of aged whisky appraising me.
        With the grace of a dancer, she rose up. Her hair tumbled in waves down her back, an effortless beauty. I kept my eyes on hers and she merely blinked once, owlishly. I knew what she wanted. With a sigh, I dipped my head back and let the hood fall off, facing her once more.
        I didn't meet her eyes, though. Didn't acknowledge her as she stepped closer, breathing deep, calming breaths. I flinched at the first gentle touch of her hand on the dark bruise at the top of my head, near my scalp. I matched my breathing with hers as her hand moved carefully across the yellowing patches of skin. The one on my neck. The one under my jaw from a sharp elbow. 
        When I finally looked her in the eyes, the sadness there was heavy. But, she smiled that watery smile at me, like she always did, and I knew it would be okay. I would survive, like I always did. I returned her smile with a saccharine grin, jumping at the shrill sound of the bell. She barked a laugh, the sound breaking the heavy tension. We rarely allowed such seriousness to occur. I just shook my head at her, and myself, before gathering my things and heading towards Physics, feeling lighter than before.
          I swung the door open, heading towards the left side of the classroom- nodding slightly as Mr. Gallager greeted my back. The usuals trickled into the room slowly, like unwilling lambs to the slaughter. The bell rang once more and Mr. Gallager began his typical attempt at quieting the rowdy seniors.
        "Now, Mr. Jale! You may NOT use that kind of lang-"

        The irate man was cut off as his classroom door creaked open, a sinewy figure slipping through.

 I felt the absurd urge to hit myself in the face.
        Instead, I settled for dropping my head to stare at the stained brown table-top of my desk. The boy from this morning was standing there, in front of everyone, seemingly nice and just a tad awkward. I felt a wave of guilt sink low in my gut and my head sunk lower in shame.
         "May I help you?" Mr. Gallager questioned, accompanied by the sound of crinkling paper.

        Without any further interrogation, the teacher made a soft hum of acquiescence before the crinkling sound was heard again.

        "You can sit behind Miss Herald." Mr. Gallager, that bastard, said patiently. I waited with bated breath as the weight of twenty pairs of eyes landed on me.

        "Miss Herald? Raise your hand for Cain, please." He asked, with that special patient voice that meant 'you better do what I ask or there will be hell to pay.'

                I obliged, feeling the heat of a blush creep along the back of my neck as we made eye contact. The only hint of his memory of earlier was that tell-tale twist of his lips. It wasn't rueful or snide, just genuinely amused. It looked good on him.
        That period was one of the most awkward of my life. I'm nearly positive the blush on my neck never faded, even if it had, the heat of his gaze would have been enough to burn my skin. The release bell sounded and the class seemed the breathe one large sigh of relief as we escaped.
        As I turned towards the 500 building, I once again felt a hovering over my shoulder. I looked at Cain in my peripheral, feeling my jaw tick at that perpetual grin on his lips.

        "Can I help you?" I found myself asking, hating the irony of it.

                "No, no. I'm just heading to.. Calculus. Room 519. Not asking for help... or anything." His voice was a smooth baritone that rippled with a gentle humor, soft as summer breeze. Normally, my feathers would be ruffled by such a blase attitude but, the tone suited him.

"What's your name?" He asked, once I didn't deem to respond to his previous statement.

"Does it matter?" I asked, opening the door to room 519.

"Well, I can't go around calling you Miss Herald, can I?"

My jaw ticked again.

"You don't have to call me anything."

"Well, that's no fun." He responded, seemingly content to sit next to me, watching as I pulled out the homework I'd been working on this morning.

I could feel a serious teenage-boy-pout-fest about to begin, watching Ms. Ian flutter about the room in preparation for the class. Only when she began going over the numbers from the assignment did I mutter under my breath, "Kat."

I could sense his smile.

My eye twitched.