Abernathy.
Welcome to the wonderful world of art.”
* * * *
Schy would’ve absolutely adored Miss Abernathy, I decided an
hour later when the bell ending first period rang. The woman was all about
freedom of expression and artistic endeavors. Still, I felt dazed as I pushed
out of the art room and entered the hall traffic. She actually expected us to
come up with an art project to enter into some festival Osage held every year
at the courthouse. So not what I wanted to do.
Thinking I’d definitely have to call Schy and get some idea
of something simple that wouldn’t end up making me look like a total loser, I
paid attention to where I was going and managed to trace my way back to my
locker.
Not sure if every class forbade bringing laptops, I took the
safe way out and stored my MacBook in my new cubby. Then I stalled, waiting for
Laina. Biting my lip, I peeked around me at the passing people. Everyone knew
everyone else. They chatted, laughed, yelled friendly insults, jostled jokingly
for more room. I felt so left out. So alone.
I knew no one.
Well, almost no one.
Across the hall and down about ten lockers lounged Ryder
Yates.
Freezing as my gaze latched on to him, I forgot to breathe
for a full ten seconds. Then air rushed from my lungs in a tidal wave.
No! What was I going to do? I told myself to turn away. But
for some reason, I simply stood there, ogling.
He looked nice. Really nice. Dressed in tan slacks and a
long-sleeved black turtleneck tucked neatly into a pleated waistline, he’d
brushed his long bangs to the side so he could see. And see, he did.
He saw me.
When he first turned my way, I remained petrified and forgot
the whole breathing thing again. But then he glanced right past me, and my
lungs exhaled in relief. Except he did a double take and swerved back to gawk.
For a split second, our gazes met and held.
And held.
His mouth dropped open; I read immediate recognition clear
on his face.
Oh, yeah. He remembered me.
I whirled away, bumping the center of my forehead on the
edge of my opened locker door. Mortified, I slapped a palm to the stinging skin
and caught the still-quivering, thin metal door with my other hand. No one paused
to ask if I was okay. So either no one noticed, or they were all too busy discreetly
laughing at the new dork in school.
After checking my fingers for blood, I blew out a relieved
breath and buried my face in my locker to pull out my book bag, only to rummage
through it as if I were looking for something, when actually I looked for
nothing. The notebook and pen I planned to take to second hour were already
securely tucked under my arm.
From behind me, I heard some boy call, “Hey, Yates, my man,
what’s wrong with you?”
I didn’t catch Yates’s response, but he had to have said
something to his friend, because the caller followed up with, “Who?” and
seconds later added, “Where?”
When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I glanced over my
shoulder. Ryder had his back to me. He stood oddly still as he looked into his
own locker as if searching for something inside, maybe something that would
give him meaning to his existence. But the guy next to him rested his forearm
on Ryder’s shoulder and openly dissected me from head to toe. Then he glanced
at Ryder’s side profile.
I swear I heard the phrase, “Are you sure that’s her?”
Ryder’s head gave a slight nod and his friend glanced over
at me once more.
They were talking about me. Well, I felt pretty certain they
were talking about me. With the level of paranoia raging through my
bloodstream, they could’ve been disputing if the girl off Twilight had also been in Snow
White and the Huntsman . Who knew? But, at this particular moment in time, I
was so infinitely aware of those two individuals discussing me, I felt more
self-conscious than if I’d forgotten to put on a bra that morning.
Again, I turned away—thank God I didn’t smack into anything
this time—and glanced around for Laina but
Welcome to the wonderful world of art.”
* * * *
Schy would’ve absolutely adored Miss Abernathy, I decided an
hour later when the bell ending first period rang. The woman was all about
freedom of expression and artistic endeavors. Still, I felt dazed as I pushed
out of the art room and entered the hall traffic. She actually expected us to
come up with an art project to enter into some festival Osage held every year
at the courthouse. So not what I wanted to do.
Thinking I’d definitely have to call Schy and get some idea
of something simple that wouldn’t end up making me look like a total loser, I
paid attention to where I was going and managed to trace my way back to my
locker.
Not sure if every class forbade bringing laptops, I took the
safe way out and stored my MacBook in my new cubby. Then I stalled, waiting for
Laina. Biting my lip, I peeked around me at the passing people. Everyone knew
everyone else. They chatted, laughed, yelled friendly insults, jostled jokingly
for more room. I felt so left out. So alone.
I knew no one.
Well, almost no one.
Across the hall and down about ten lockers lounged Ryder
Yates.
Freezing as my gaze latched on to him, I forgot to breathe
for a full ten seconds. Then air rushed from my lungs in a tidal wave.
No! What was I going to do? I told myself to turn away. But
for some reason, I simply stood there, ogling.
He looked nice. Really nice. Dressed in tan slacks and a
long-sleeved black turtleneck tucked neatly into a pleated waistline, he’d
brushed his long bangs to the side so he could see. And see, he did.
He saw me.
When he first turned my way, I remained petrified and forgot
the whole breathing thing again. But then he glanced right past me, and my
lungs exhaled in relief. Except he did a double take and swerved back to gawk.
For a split second, our gazes met and held.
And held.
His mouth dropped open; I read immediate recognition clear
on his face.
Oh, yeah. He remembered me.
I whirled away, bumping the center of my forehead on the
edge of my opened locker door. Mortified, I slapped a palm to the stinging skin
and caught the still-quivering, thin metal door with my other hand. No one paused
to ask if I was okay. So either no one noticed, or they were all too busy discreetly
laughing at the new dork in school.
After checking my fingers for blood, I blew out a relieved
breath and buried my face in my locker to pull out my book bag, only to rummage
through it as if I were looking for something, when actually I looked for
nothing. The notebook and pen I planned to take to second hour were already
securely tucked under my arm.
From behind me, I heard some boy call, “Hey, Yates, my man,
what’s wrong with you?”
I didn’t catch Yates’s response, but he had to have said
something to his friend, because the caller followed up with, “Who?” and
seconds later added, “Where?”
When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I glanced over my
shoulder. Ryder had his back to me. He stood oddly still as he looked into his
own locker as if searching for something inside, maybe something that would
give him meaning to his existence. But the guy next to him rested his forearm
on Ryder’s shoulder and openly dissected me from head to toe. Then he glanced
at Ryder’s side profile.
I swear I heard the phrase, “Are you sure that’s her?”
Ryder’s head gave a slight nod and his friend glanced over
at me once more.
They were talking about me. Well, I felt pretty certain they
were talking about me. With the level of paranoia raging through my
bloodstream, they could’ve been disputing if the girl off Twilight had also been in Snow
White and the Huntsman . Who knew? But, at this particular moment in time, I
was so infinitely aware of those two individuals discussing me, I felt more
self-conscious than if I’d forgotten to put on a bra that morning.
Again, I turned away—thank God I didn’t smack into anything
this time—and glanced around for Laina but
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