Hidden Wings

The day can't end fast enough

"Hi, I'm Ashton," he whispers, leaning over slightly. I just nod in response and turn the page of my textbook. "What's your name?" When I don't answer his first question, he tries again, but I make no effort to continue the conversation—not that it stops him. I can feel the daggers from the other girls in class. Sure, he's handsome, almost unrealistically so, but him talking to me shouldn't make me a target. I don't even know him—not in the waking world. I glanced quickly around the room and met Heather's eyes for a brief moment. She gives me an unnerving smile that sends a different kind of shiver down my spine, then looks away as if she’s just claimed some sort of victory. I focus on anything but the new kid, wishing he’d just leave me alone.

“Is that the book for class?” he asks, and clearly God isn’t answering my plea to keep this kid away from me. Sighing inwardly, I focus on something on my desk and nod. “Can we share? I’ll get mine later. Do you know where the library is?” I nod again, sliding the book to the middle of the table. From the corner of my eye, I see him shift, but I don’t look up or say anything. Mr. Simon hands him a paper and then walks back to the front to continue where he left off.

“Do you know what we’re doing?” he whispers, leaning over to glance at my sheet. We’re in English class, and my space is a bit cluttered with this morning’s five-minute writing exercise, a dictionary, a thesaurus, and three different highlighters. On top of it all lies the sheet for the book we’re reading in class.

“Reading and notes.” I bought my book so I could write in it, the pages filled with colors and thoughts from one weekend of reading. He glanced up from his paper to the book and smiled. I stole a quick look at him, not quite meeting his eyes, yet my heart fluttered anyway. If I’d been standing, my knees would have given out. He was just like in my dreams—sending chills through me, as if my heart was breaking for the hundredth time. Tears pricked my eyes, so I looked away. Outside, to my surprise, the sky had turned gray as clouds rolled in. I looked upward, then across the courtyard, and deep in the room I spotted something. It drew closer, and that’s when I saw them—blue, icy eyes that could steal souls staring straight at me, sending a cold rush through my veins. I quickly looked down at my sheet.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Ashton said, grabbing my attention. I shrugged one shoulder and scribbled something random on the paper. He stopped trying to talk to me, but I could feel his gaze on me the entire time during class, making me squirm in my seat. I wanted to yell at him, to say anything, but nothing came out. So I just sat there, trying to listen to Mr. Simón, but it was impossible. The moment the bell rang, I was so happy I practically jumped and ran out the door. The farther I got from him, the better I felt, like my stomach slowly untwisted the knots it had formed. My next class was on the second floor, and I practically ran up the stairs to escape the lingering pull that still tugged at me. Even in the classroom, it was there—faint, but there. Moments later, Heather and Olivia walked in and came up to my seat.

“I just talked to the new guy. His name is Ashton. He’s totally my type, so you better not go near him,” she hisses, though her tone makes it sound like she’s daring me to do the opposite.

“You know, I was thinking the same thing. In fact, I think you should go to him right now.” I glanced up at her, trying my best to look disinterested, then make it obvious by pulling out my book and flipping to the page I left off, letting her stand there stunned. The bell rings, and they head to their seats, madder than a jackrabbit.

“We’ll leave it here, remember to turn in your homework on the way out,” the sub at the front says after the bell rings. I’m one of the first to get up and hand mine in, but as I step out and turn left, the pull hits me again. I ran straight into the one person I’d hoped to avoid—Ashton. Smacking into his muscular chest so hard I nearly fell, he caught me before I hit the ground. I mentally scold myself as I felt him move closer—why didn’t I go the other way? Looking up, my breath catches, my body burning like I’m standing in the middle of a fire. The sensation is so overwhelming my grip on his forearm tightens as I try to steady myself.

“Are you okay? Do you need to go to the infirmary?” The image of the dead body in red flashes through my mind. I let him go, pushing away so quickly I almost fell, but he caught my hand just in time. It’s like electricity shoots between us, and this time, everywhere he touches it feels like it’s on fire. I groan as I steady myself and turn to run the other way. Heather calls me a freak as I pass her. I rush into the girls’ restroom, splash water on my face, then head to the nurse’s office to ask if I can lie down. By the middle of the third hour, I started to feel better, so I head to class. When I walk in, everyone looks at me. I hand my Spanish teacher the note and take my seat, doing my best to ignore the strange pull coming from Ashton. He’s in the next room—I can feel it. Pressing my lips together, I pull out my work for class. ‘Why is this happening?’ I groan inwardly.