Chapter 5Language is my first class of the day.
After receiving my timetable after sign-in, I head towards on of the smaller blocks. I scan the doors for room number C6.
The school system is unfamiliar. Even with my brainpower off the scales this is going to take some getting used to.
I still can't shift Cole from my mind.
There was something about the way he looked at me. He just knew that I was different.
The fact that he saw the indigo in my eyes
The pictures. The way he drew everything. The features, the colour. I suppose it would have looked like me.
The wings? The male in the picture?
Now that part didn't make sense.
Trying to escape these sort of thoughts is not a task I go through everyday. Never in my two thousand years as a human have I ever met someone like Cole.
Then, something crosses my mind that scares me s*** less.
What if he's like me?
Is it possible?
No. I couldn't be. I was created when light and dark collided. Born into the world as what we call a 'shadow'. I was a figment of the human imagination, invading dreams. Living off fantasy.
Then, another thought crosses my mind.
Fantasy is real. You're the living proof. Why couldn't he be something like you?
Something like me? That makes sense.
"Ebony Escador. Se puede hablar español?"
Can you speak Spanish?
That teacher thinks she's smart. Pfft. She doesn't know what smart is.
"Sí. Hablo con fluidez española."
Yes, I speak Spanish fluently.
Some people laugh at the teacher's shocked expression. I smile to myself. A quiet victory. The teacher quickly switches back to English, continuing on with the lesson.
I don't bother listening. I've been through this a hundred times over, and you can see why it bores me.
Instead, I change thoughts to my creation. But it is a lost cause. There is nothing there that will bring me any closer to finding out the reason behind my creation.
"Miss Escador. Please state the following in Spanish: 'The key to a Spanish accent is to curl the tongue.'" The teacher gloats.
What a b****...
"Yo no soy el maestro en el aula y por lo tanto no es mi trabajo de enseñar." I set my hands down on the table, a discreet smile curling over my lips. The few people that understand what I just said snigger.
"Ma'am," I add. The teacher glares at me, deadpan. She diverts her attention to the chalkboard, and I divert my attention to the window.
A lone crow pecks at scraps of food that lay abandoned on the concrete wasteland. It is the only sign of life out there, and the thought of it makes me sign.
I was that crow, once. Black and alone, in my own wasteland. I wonder if now, everything will be different.
Involuntary, my thoughts turn back to Cole.
What does he want from me?
* * * * *
The end of the school day draws to a close, and I sit on the concrete wall out the front of the school, waiting for Escador. My hair is tossed by the light breeze, and a shiver runs through my spine.
A figure walks towards me, and at first I think it is Cole. But it is not. A boy I have never seen before approaches me, a friendly smile on his face.
I smile, slightly confused. "Hi."
The boy doesn't even offer a hand as he slides down next to me, and his boldness is surprising.
"You're in my language class. Ebony, right?" This boy is strange, but his presence is cetainly not unwelcome to me. His eyes are a dark shade of hazel. The green and brown swirl together, like different coloured ink.
"Yeah, that's me. And you are?"
His eyes are haunting. This boy is devilishly handsome, with medium-length chocolate hair that curls slightly at the ends. Built like a racehorse, I have no doubt that this guy must be the fantasy of every girl here.
"I'm Lance," he says, tossing his hair out of his gorgeous eyes. I am not one to fall in love, especially with humans, but at the moment, I wish I was human.
"Lance? Is that short for anything?" I begin unbraiding my hair at the front, and it falls in front of my face, hiding my smile. He laughs.
"It's not short for Lancelot, if that's what you mean," he says. His skin touches mine, and I am shocked by the heat of it. He must feel it too, because he gazes down at where our arms touched.
"You're skin is really cold," he mutters. I laugh.
Who knows? You actually could be.
Lance laughs. "Need a lift? I have a ride around the back."
I stop laughing. His boldness astounds me. I don't even know this guy.
"Nah, it's alright. My dad will be here soon."
Lance seems disappointed, but doesn't argue. He grins at me.
"Want some company?" Devilish grin.
"What's your interest in a person like me?"
I know the answer. With what I have on offer, you'd be crazy to refuse.
"You just seem like you need a friend," Lance shrugs. Friend? That's a new one.
"Oh? Alright then, please yourself," I laugh. My mind is working feverishly to piece this all together:
In one day, I have met two guys. Both are gorgeous, and both seem like they want something from me. Cole seems distant, and I feel like I know him. Lance seems like a flirt, and it seems like he wants something from me other than friendship.
I don't know why, but suddenly I feel like I am in déjà vu. This has happened before, or I have been in this situation. But again, I can't pinpoint when or where, and it frustrates me.
Lance shifts closer towards me, and the warmth of his skin against mine makes my skin prickle. This is weird.
"So, how are you liking school? You seem pretty good at language." What a cliche conversation...
"It's alright. It'll take some getting used to."
"Know anyone yet?"
His qustion surprises me. What does he want from me?
"Well, I ran into someone this morning," I say. His eyes study my face, and I can hear his heartbeat thumbing as if he was playing an electric bongo drum. "Some guy name Cole."
Sharp intake of breath. Secretively glare.
What the hell?
"Anything wrong?" I say, trailing my hand over his shoulder. Urg. Nice one, Ebony. Play the concerned girlfriend. Pathetic.
But it works. Lance takes my hand and holds it in his own. His hand is large and warm, and cups mine perfectly.
"That guy is seriously weird." I hear him snarl at the back of his throat, something a human couldn't hear.
"You don't like him." It's a statement, not a question. "Why is that?"
Lance looks at me. His hair looks soft and feathery, and his hazel eyes look so warm. But I can sense something behind that. Something cold.
"It's nothing. We just don't get along."
I can only imagine...
A horn honking interrupts the little bonding session. Escador waves from inside the car, then points to his watch.
"Thats my dad. Sorry Lancelot, I have to go," I say, tugging his hair. He helps me to my feet. Then, out of nowhere, wraps me in a bear-hug.
What the hell...
"Bye, Ebony." He says my name like it's the most beautiful thing ever. This is seriously mushy...
He releases me, then waves in the direction of Escador. From here, I see confusion lines crease in his brow, and his breathing stiffens slightly. I smile. Lance is really...friendly?
"Sweet ride, Ebony," he says with a whistle. He turns to me, touches my arm. "It was nice meeting you."
"You too, Lance. Drive safely." I could gag on my words.
"And, um. I'd avoid Cole, if you know what's good for you. That kid...he's just different."
I c*** an eyebrow slightly. "No need to worry about me, Lance. I can take care of myself."
He laughs. "Oh don't worry, I trust you on that."
After one last wistful glance at me, he turns and heads off in the direction he came. I'm left standing alone on the grass, watching him go. Escador honks again.
This is going to be an interesting year...