The Fallen |BxB| ✓

03 | Amethyst in Your Eyes

↞[Ken]↠

Stomach twisting in knots, I stared at "Chesterfield High" etched on the gravel plague, standing upright from the ground, menacingly. The more I pushed the urge to run back home, the harder it hit next time. The regret of changing towns in the last school year toiled my mind. I almost jumped when a hand lightly tapped my shoulder.

"Hey, you feeling okay?" I turned to a petite girl, her hand slipping off my shoulder as she readjusted the thin bundle of books in her arm. Her thin brow curved in an arch when I didn't reply. "I've never seen you. Are you new here?"

"I-uh, yes." Letting go of my bag's strap, reluctantly, I extended my hand at her, which was thankfully not shaking. "Ken."

Her sky-blue eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled and returned the handshake, palms soft and fragile in my grip. "I'm Emily." Dropping the handshake, she tucked back her blonde locks behind her ears, strands flimsy from being straightened too much. "Where's your homeroom? I'll help you out. It's pretty daunting to attend school in mid-semester."

"You bet it is..." My first class was English. I explained my time table to her and an amused expression seized her.

"We're in the same homeroom." She huffed with palpable confusion. "For real, I thought you're a junior. You look so young."

"Um, thanks?" I said with a lopsided smile, taking the regular comment as a compliment now. Girl, you're barely reaching my chin. What the heck?

She began walking, making me string alongside her. "You're new in the town, too?"

"How do you know?" I asked, genuinely concerned if some horrific expression was plastered on my face, making me look alienated.

"The only other school here is Saint Francis, and I don't see why you'd school-hop in your last year." Emily's pace was aggravatingly slow. "You coming from Portland or something?"

I shook my head quickly. "Rosewood. Just across the woods, actually."

She slowed to a halt. "Rosewood. I've heard the name..." Her silence felt heavy despite the sounds of footsteps of students running inside the school building. Fingers looping a lock of thin blonde hair made me nervous about what was coming. She gasped with realization. "Last season. The feral animal attacks! So many people died."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I asked her, "So, how long have you lived in Chesterfield?" Pushing my hands in my sweatshirt's pockets, I looked at her with hope.

"Um, not so long. I came here like four years back." I continued on the stone-paved path, making her follow carefully beside me. "I lived in Portland before, but this is my hometown."

I nodded, my focus shifting on a tall grey-stoned statue of a man in a top hat, a cane clutched in his fist, its heel resting near his foot, and the other hand was holding a thick tome. "Hey," Emily said softly, making me look back to her, cheeks aflush in the chilled autumn wind. "It's cool, Ken. I was new too, and I know it feels impossible to fit into groups. But you seem nice." A reassuring smile pulled her baby pink lips. "I'm sure you'll make a hella lot of friends."