Sabrine + Dylan

"Miss, um, Rodgers, was it?" Sabrine lifted her head from her sketchbook and immediately flushed. "Yes?" The teacher- Sabrine had forgotten his name already- motioned for her to come to the board and stretched a piece of chalk in her direction.  "I'm going to guess that you already know the material, seeing as you've got your head in the clouds," he said, as he raised a white, bushy eyebrow. Sabrine heard a snicker from the back of the classroom and bit her tongue. It was only her first day at Daley Academy, and she was already messing up. With the chalk now in hand, she turned to the board slowly. The numbers were so long that they swam out of vision. They blurred with the letters that were for some reason in math class and... Pi? Well, that at least sounded familiar, but what was up with the E's and tiny, floating numbers? Sabrine solved what she could- simplifying fractions and finding the angle of a triangle. Still, she stood in front of a very unsolved equation, the ticking clock heightening her nerves as the rest of the students watched her fail in silence. The teacher must have sensed her complete panic because he took the chalk from her and welcomed her back to her seat. However, because at this school every adult was probably required by law to hate children, he pinched the bridge of his nose and added, "Next time, please pay more attention to my lessons, and less to whatever it is you were doodling." Sabrine slumped in her chair and bit her tongue again. "Yes, sir," she answered, fighting the redness that was trying to creep up on her cheeks. "School sucks and it is completely unnecessary," she wrote in neat handwriting in thee corner of a page in her sketchbook before closing it nicely and pulling out her school-issued Math notebook. Daley Academy- Discover With Pride, Thrive Without Restrictions was printed in bright orange letters across a neon blue background. Under the Papyrus letters, a single word was written in bumpy Sans: Math. It's dizzying to look at, she thought. And that was just the math journal. Earlier that day, Sabrine had almost passed out from staring at the cover of her faded yellow-green and gold history notebook. "Miss Rodgers, why is your notebook not open yet?" "Sorry," Sabrine muttered, burying her face in the open pages as she felt herself redden. Sabrine began copying down the questions and answers on the board. All the while she was trying to ignore the stares of several of her classmates, including the questioning stare of the blond boy two rows to her right. Not a moment too soon, class ended, finally giving Sabrine a chance to breathe in peace. At Daley Academy, Sabrine had been informed on her tour of the empty building the day before, students are provided with a free period after every two classes, designed to help students meditate on what they've learned and help their classmates with something they don't understand. The way Sabrine was seeing it now, however, it was really just fifteen minutes of free time, where girls would start gossiping and boys would start throwing backpacks around. A few students walked out entirely, others pulled out their phones. Sabrine glanced at the girls gathered around the window and sighed. Maybe if I just went up to them... No. Sabrine wasn't shy, exactly, but she knew her place. These girls had been born into money. They probably received a new car every time they got an A on their report card. Sabrine was still in the process of getting used to not having to work double shifts at Poppy's Popcorn to pay her and her sister's phone bill. That didn't stop her from smiling at everyone that walked by her desk. If someone would speak to her first, she wouldn't be stepping out of line. After a minute of so of too many people turning away instead of returning the gesture, Sabrine slumped into her chair. So much for a good first... Her thought trailed, because she had seen him walking in her direction. Nothing, in particular gave it away, but maybe it was the way he glanced at her before standing that tipped her off. The blond boy she had seen staring at her earlier was approaching her. She smiled at him. They could be friends, right? Unless he isn't going to talk to you, a voice in her head suggested. Panic overtook her and she turned away from him, focusing on her desk instead. The next thing she knew, however, the tall, handsome boy out of uniform was kneeling by her desk. She didn't immediately notice his good looks, though. That would come later. "Why do you look so dazed?" Sabrine straightened her back and cleared her throat. It was true; her resting face was all upwardly curved lips and unfurrowed brows, like if she were having a picnic at the park. Sabrine hated it, insisting the contrast was jarring with her dark eyes and even darker hair, but her mother said it made her look delicate and feminine- like honey. It was a trait her sister Margot made clear she envied. Ripping herself from her reverie, Sabrine turned her attention back to the boy, smiling on purpose this time. "Sorry. My name is Sabrine. What's yours?" The boy was silent, his eyes taking Sabrine in. After a moment of squirming uncomfortably under his gaze, the boy spoke. As he did, Sabrine couldn't help but think about how opposite to honey he looked. "So what is it? Political pull? Money? Wait, let me guess... we've got another musician?" Sharp and dark, despite his honey hair and honey eyes. Sabrine wasn't in Daley because of music, though. No, she didn't have any talents that had gotten her a scholarship, or a friend in a high place. It was her father's recent promotion that had moved them across the country at the beginning of her school year, giving Sabrine and Margot the opportunity to attend one of the most prestigious schools in the country. She thought about explaining all this to the boy, but when she realized he was already yawning, she decided to keep it short. "I'm not a musician. Well, I mean, I can sort of play the guitar but..." I'm not that good, she would have finished, though his mind was evidently somewhere else. His eyes were on her, sure, but they were analyzing her. She thought she saw his eye twitch in disapproval, but it could have been her imagination. "I'm sorry, can I help you?" she snapped, finally having enough of his scrutiny. As soon as she spoke the words, she bit her tongue, wishing she could take them back. So much for making a friend. "No, but you wanted my help," he said, surprising Sabrine. She had expected him to drop the conversation, but he continued: "I'm not going to lie, though, all that staring makes me uncomfortable. You're going to have to dial it down." What? "I'm sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else." He sighed. "It's fine to be a fan." It was Sabrine's turn to analyze the stranger. Was he being serious? "A- a fan?" she asked, bewildered. "I'm sure that's what I said. A fan," he said condescendingly. This guy definitely had her confused with someone else, but Sabrine didn't know what to say, simply shaking her head in response. "I'm not surprised, you know?" he continued, completely ignoring her protests. "I've had fans my whole life. Just- I should lay some ground rules. I don't date fans. I don't like having my personal space invaded. You can watch, and talk to me every so often but-" "I don't know who you are." The boy stopped, pulling his head back in shock. He blinked the surprise from his face and smiled slowly. Not sweetly. There was nothing sweet about this boy. "There's no shame in admitting the truth," he said, but Sabrine wasn't sure he meant it anymore. "Anyway, have a good day, Sabrine." The way he said her name was almost sarcastic. It made her feel embarrassed but she wasn't sure why.  As she watched him walk back to his seat, Sabrine felt a laugh bubble in her chest but she held it back. Would it be appropriate to laugh at someone who walked with so much confidence in his steps? Surely it was a joke, the way he had insisted she was someone she was not, the way he hadn't even mentioned his name. Sabrine bit her lips and traced a finger over the cover of her notebook. With enough luck, the boy would be an outlier in an otherwise normal school. But maybe that was hoping for too much. A chair screeched as it was pushed back and she turned to the noise, grimacing when she saw it was the  same boy. "I'm going out," he announced to no one in particular. For a second, Sabrine thought he was speaking to her, but she wasn't allowed to entertain that thought for long; as soon as the boy was out the door, at least a dozen of her classmates stood at once, running after him, shouting, "Dylan!" and, "Wait for me!" and "Move over!' Dylan. So that's his name, Sabrine thought, just as someone barreled into her. Her chair toppled over, with her still sitting in it, and she landed on her shoulder with a thud. The guilty party shouted a "Sorry!" before losing themselves in the crowd. A pair of hands picked her up, but, before she could thank them, they, too ran out the door. Sabrine sighed as she set her chair straight and readjusted her skirt. So her classmate was famous. Too famous, in Sabrine's opinion, but that was beside the point. He was a... a what? A singer? No, he looked annoyed at the idea of another musician being introduced into the school. An actor? No, Sabrine would have recognized him; she spent too much time at the movie theater back home. A senator's son? Maybe. If he was rich, it would explain why so many people wanted to be his friend. Sabrine decided it didn't matter. At a school like Daley, there was certainly going to be more than one idol roaming the halls. Sabrine would simply have to get used to it. Before long, the bell rang, and open hour finally ended. * Lunchtime was the best time. It was just a fact. Even though Sabrine had no one to sit with, the food was a good enough distraction so that she didn't feel too lonely. The cafeteria was twice the size of her old one, and food lined three of the four walls. Tables spiraled from the center, where the blond boy sat, ignoring a girl who was offering him a cake. After Sabrine was done scarfing her food down- the food at Daley was much better than anything her old school had ever offered- she decided to take a walk around the courtyard, which was just outside the doors at the back of the cafeteria. Now, the word courtyard was both too much and not enough. It was green-ish, with benches and trees and a small fountain that had a fish carved all the way up the spiral. Windows lead into vacant classrooms and a recreational room that had deflated balloons on the floor. What Sabrine was really headed to, however, was the cement walkway that cut between one of the school's wings and led to the back lot. The back lot was a sight to behold. Ignoring the short-cropped, yellowing grass, the tables strewn about on the uneven mounds, and the multiple garbage cans, of course. No, what Sabrine was looking at was beyond the wilting metal fence. She was looking at the trees that covered the lush green grass and the wildflowers that matched the colors of the sunset. There was enough room for a paved concrete path that the students were supposed to stay away from. Sabrine decided she didn't feel like following the rules. She looked around, After making sure no one was looking, she jumped over the fence and found the paved pathway. It was winding and never ending and Sabrine felt like she could walk it forever in the warm September breeze. She only wandered for a while, always keeping an eye on her school-issued wristwatch. After a few minutes, she glanced back and was delighted to find that she was completely obscured from the school's vision. Twenty minutes passed, and, just as Sabrine was thinking of turning back, she saw him. It wasn't Dylan. This boy didn't have the same sun-shade hair. His shoulder-length hair was as black as Sabrine's. He was sitting on the floor barefoot, cross-legged between two trees, his back parallel to the path. His uniform suit was hanging on a nearby branch, his tie was loose and his fingers were coated in paint. And he was painting! His canvas was half blank, half covered in purple and orange and navy and red and yellow trees. The scenery was evidently autumn, just a month away. Cutting between the trees and partially covered in fallen leaves was a winding gray pathway. A girl with long, black hair was walking it, her eyes blank and arms open to the wind. Is that me? Sabrine thought, stepping closer to get a better look.  It did look like her. The boy must have seen her as she approached and decided to add her in. Sabrine stood by, frozen in awe, as she watched him add more color to the painting. The painting that was beautiful and accurate and breathtaking and Sabrine couldn't believe it was being created before her very eyes. Just as he began adding in the inky sky that bled into her hair, Sabrine's watch decided to go off, warning her that class would begin in five minutes. For a heart stopping second, his eyes came into contact with hers and he spoke. "You're leaving already?" Sabrine swallowed hard and managed a nod, taking a slow step backward. Why had she stayed for so long? He glanced at his painting then back at her, sending her cheeks flaming. It was her, wasn't it? "Well, I'm not done with the eyes." Was he asking her for her eye color? "Brown," she answered, hoping she was interpreting this correctly. "Brown? Brown like the mountains out east? Or pennies?" That made Sabrine pause. She'd never thought of comparing her eyes to anything. They had always just been brown. Like the color. "Like..." she started, glancing around for anything that resembled them. "Like that bark," she finished, motioning to the tree that was holding his suit. The boy glanced at the tree, his fingers brushing against the bark and furrowed his brows, turning back to Sabrine "What's your name?" "Sabrine Rodgers." And, before she could think to ask him for his, the first bell rang. Suddenly caring about the rules, Sabrine waved goodbye and off to the big, coffee-colored building she ran. ***