Hidden Wings

When can I go home

By lunchtime, I felt like I was being pulled toward him every time we were in the same hall or room. Passing the cafeteria doors to grab a drink, that feeling hit me again—like I could spot him instantly. Sure enough, there he was at a table in the back, surrounded by a crowd, yet I knew exactly where he sat. Afraid he’d caught me staring at his gorgeous face but terrified of getting lost in those smoky blue, mesmerizing eyes, I quickly lowered my head and turned away from the vending machines, forgetting the drink altogether. Just being near him made me shiver; I felt suffocated and unsettled, torn between wanting to run far away and wanting to get closer, drawn in by his sweet scent. I sighed and shook my head—something was seriously off. I needed air. I headed straight for the courtyard, craving the fresh breeze. Though it was early fall, the day was still warm, and the light wind was comforting. I went to my quiet spot by a few trees where the sunlight hit just right, the one place I could relax and breathe. Sitting down, I pulled out my book and read in peace until, as I turned the page, I noticed a pair of shoes in front of me. I didn’t have to look up to know who it was—the new guy. I felt that same pull as he walked toward me, silently hoping he wasn’t coming my way, but luck wasn’t on my side.

"Hey, can I sit next to you?" I know I should shake my head, try to clear the fog in my mind, but instead I nod, and horror fills me as he sits down so close we’re almost touching.

"Do you talk at all?" I nod again, pretending to read, but I can’t focus on anything except him and how close he is. His warmth seeps into my skin, making my heart race. "That’s not talking," he laughs. His laugh is like music, and I close my eyes to soak in the perfect sound. Realizing I’m getting carried away, I quickly open my eyes and turn the page, trying to steady myself. "Could you at least tell me your name?" he asks, leaning in and making my heart leap.

"Ivey," I answered quietly.

"Ivey," he repeated. "That's a beautiful name." He leaned back, realizing how close he’d been.

"Thanks," I said a little louder. Something about his compliment made me feel like I should take more pride in myself, but that just isn’t me.

"You have a beautiful voice," he said, gently taking a few strands of my hair. My head shot up in surprise.

"My... my... hair..." When I looked up, my eyes locked with his. That pull between us grew stronger, and I had the urge to reach out and touch him. He was stunning—his deep blue eyes flecked with brown, his black hair shining cleanly, cut to his ears with a neat fade, a strong jawline, and a dazzling smile that could put the sun to shame. I couldn’t look away. His smile widened as he held my gaze, letting my hair slowly slip from his grasp. He leaned closer and closer until my shoulder brushed against his chest, and he breathed,

"You have gorgeous red hair; it makes your green eyes stand out." His voice was husky as he moved even nearer. We were inches apart—any closer, and we’d be kissing.

"Thank you," I say slowly. Just a little closer... then the bell rings, snapping me out of his trance. I step back, pick up my backpack, and stand. As I start to walk away, he gently grabs my wrist.

"What class do you have next?" His touch burns, the heat spreading through me, and I want nothing more than to close my eyes and embrace it.

"Art," I reply, pulling free from his grasp. A cold chill runs up my spine but fades quickly when I meet his shining eyes.

"Me too! Let’s go together." I wanted to say no, but instead I nodded and started walking, now with him beside me. As we move down the hallway, whispers and stares surround us, making me uncomfortable, but Ashton seems completely unaware.

"Have you always lived here?" he asks, sparking a conversation. I nod, clutching my book. He smiles. "Back to silence again?" I shrug, and he laughs. "Well, I’ve traveled to lots of places thanks to my aunt. I really hope we stay here, though." His gaze was intoxicating.

When we get to the art room, Ms. Doise stops Ashton to give him the information he needs for the class. I don’t wait and head straight to my seat in the far back, which I’d had all to myself—until Ashton walks over and sits in front of me. Ms. Doise, ever the happy-go-lucky type, notices I have a table partner and beams, clapping her hands.

"That's wonderful. Now Ivey, you can do the project. I’ll let you two get started. Ivey, please tell him what we’re doing." I nod, still sketching in my book. When she walks away, I set it down.

"Do you have a sketchbook?" I ask.

"Always," he replies with a smile, pulling his out and flipping to a blank page.

"Okay, so we’re just drawing each other," I say, turning to a clean page.

"I get to draw you?" he asks, his smile widening. "That’s awesome. I get to draw a beautiful girl." My face warms, but I push it aside, figuring he must flirt with everyone.

"Just start drawing," I say coldly, doing everything I can to keep my composure, but he just laughs.

"Okay, I would, but I kind of need to see your face." He lowers the sketchbook I had unknowingly picked up and placed in front of me. When it was low enough for his liking, I could see him smiling—and somehow, that smile felt so familiar.

After taking a few deep breaths to steady my heart, I began to sketch him. I glanced up to see him wearing a serious expression for the first time today, which startled me and sent my pulse racing. Shaking my head to refocus, I started with his head, moving on to his eyes, nose, and ears, then down to his lips. My gaze trailed along his neck, over his chest, and down his arms. In my mind, I began to undress him; anyone could see he was well-built. I imagined defined stomach muscles, strong arms, and perfect biceps wrapped in warm, tan skin, as if he lived in sunlight. I could almost feel my hand tracing over him when a sudden squeal snapped me back to reality. Looking over, I saw Ms. Doise standing beside our table, examining our work. Glancing down, I realized I was still drawing, lost in my own little world, working on his waist. I had sketched him with his arms folded across his chest, his face serious with just a hint of a smile as he looked down to the left.

"Oh my god!" she shouts, looking down. "You two are amazing! I can't believe it." I glance at her, then at Ashton, who smiles and shows me his drawing. I looked incredible—my hair blowing in an invisible wind, my gaze turned upward to the right, sitting with a book in my hand, lying face down on the ground. It was like a black-and-white photo of me. I glanced down at my own drawing; it clearly wasn’t as good as his, so I didn’t want to show him. But he places my sketchbook on the table, his eyes widening, and I want to sink into my seat from embarrassment, knowing it wasn’t that good.

"Holy... Ivey, you really think I look like that?" My chest tightened, certain he hated it. Then he said, "I look amazing, it's like a photo. I'm so serious... wait, what..." He mumbled the last part as he took my book and placed it in the middle of the table beside his. Side by side, it was as if I were looking up at him, and he was looking down at me, forming a complete picture. My eyes widened in surprise, but I said nothing, and neither did he. We just stared at each other in silence until Ms. Doise spoke.

"This is definitely going into the showcase. Can you two draw it bigger?" Without breaking eye contact with me, he nods. "Brilliant, the showcase is in two months." I sat there in shock, trying to process what just happened—he likes my art, we’re in the showcase, and he… he’s my partner! My brain went into overdrive, and although I wanted to freak out, I stayed calm and silent, showing nothing. Class ended, and we headed to our last class together. Once again, the girls went wild, then their expressions shifted to anger when they saw me next to him, trash-talking all the while. At this point, I couldn’t care less—my mind was done for the day. I took my usual seat in the back by the window, where no one sat beside me, enjoying the peace. But then Ashton came and took the seat, and my peaceful world began to crumble. I tried to ignore him, but the teacher made that impossible when we had to share a math book. I just needed this day to be over.