The Green Field

I was making my way down the hall, passing people passing-him-the one who stalked me. Followed me home. To the mall. The store. Everywhere. But he suddenly stopped last week. I have nothing to worry about. At least I hope it is. My headshot back in front of me when I noticed that I was staring at him. As soon as I was looking forward I ran into somebody. My glasses fell. s**t. I can't see a damn thing, everything’s blurry. Someone takes my hand and sets my glasses in the palm. I look up even though I can't see them, my eyes fall down to where my glasses lay. I reach and grab my glasses with my free hand and shook them to get them open and I put them on. “You have another hand ya know…” I look at my hand still on top of his. Then up at….him? Not the stalker ‘him’ but the school known “bad boy” Last year he spray painted a wolf on the side of the school building. It was amazing. So realistic. It was a gray wolf with bright blue eyes that shimmered and long fluffy fur that looked like you could reach out to feel the soft and fluffy fur. It was the most beautiful wolf I had ever seen. How did he do it? Specifically with spray paint. “How did you paint that wolf? The one on the side of the school building?”I asked, reading from my thoughts. A smile appeared on his perfectly symmetrical face. Then a flash of understanding flew across his face and left just as fast as it came. He’s probably confused why I asked him that question, I said it so suddenly so I would be surprised if he was. I let out an audible sigh. If only he could read my thoughts. If everyone could, then they would understand why I always say random stuff. I shook my head aggressively and removed my hand from on top of his, but as soon as I did my hand grew instantly cold. I ignored the coolness on my hand. I need to clear my head. Air. That's what I need. I walked away from him knowing that he still didn’t answer my question but even if he did I wouldn't have noticed, I got lost in my thoughts. I wonder what he said. If he said anything. I hear his footsteps behind me. Is he following me? He better not be another James, the dude that stalked me all of last semester.