Calling Carter.

The next few days were like nothing I had ever experienced before. I had never had a best friend, and Kala quickly filled every void I might have had. She was bubbly and friendly, talkative and still a good listener. Her favourite game was ‘hide and seek’. And she loved to dance.

Every afternoon we would go up onto View Hill. I didn’t mind the intrusions now. I never realised how lonely it had been before. I always thought I preferred my own company, but I don’t, not compared to Kala’s. I found out that she was actually very shy. She had gone out on a limb to make friends with me, and, well… It worked. She didn’t make friends this quickly, she told me. I laughed and said I didn’t make friends.

But Carter was different. He was sarcastic and cynical, way too much to be funny – it got abrasive after a while. And every now and again I would catch him looking at me with those strange, strange eyes of his, as if he were studying me for some reason. It wasn’t disconcerting, exactly; more that I wasn’t used to having someone watch me like that.

Alright, hell, it was disconcerting.

But I guess I was starting to get used to it.

That day, Kala was away from school. I wasn’t sure why, but I hoped she wasn’t sick. At lunch, sitting under a tree (of course) I saw Carter – which usually doesn’t happen – and he beckoned me over from my group of usual friends. I got up, crossed the small field we were on and gave him a questioning look.

“Kala wanted me to tell you that she won’t be on View Hill tonight. Are you still going to be up there?” He asked quietly.

“Ah… Yes…” I answered, unsure why he was asking. “Why?”

He smiled down at me, and it wasn’t a nice smile. “Just wondering.”

I raised an eyebrow, but when I got a smirk for an answer I went back to my group wearing a scowl. Boys sucked.

Gemma, one of the girls I didn’t know very well, said, “Is he your, like, boyfriend or something?”

“What? No. Why?” I asked.

“’Cause he is like, a complete freak, I swear. He’s in my art class. A total loser-weirdo. He draws pictures of a hill and then covers it in red paint. Every single lesson.”

No wonder I didn’t know her very well. She had to string her sentences together with the current version of muck that passed for acceptable slang. That was partly Kala’s opinion talking there. She hated “clones”, as she called them. I smiled to myself. She believed in differences. It was one of the reasons we were friends.

Although I did have to suppress a snigger at the fact that Carter had probably painted a sunset, and Gemma couldn’t tell. Either that or he really had covered it in red paint. I wouldn’t put it past him. Even so, I had a sudden urge to see that painting.

(CARTER’S P.O.V)

I watched Silah walk back to her group of friends, scowling. It amused me. For some reason, I was glad that she would still be at View Hill tonight. It would give me a better chance to draw her, without Kala in the picture. I sighed. I loved my baby sister, but she was incredibly annoying at times.

At least she understood why I was drawing Silah. After the first few “you’ve got a crush” comments, in that irritating sing-song voice, Kala had become serious. She understood why I found Silah so captivating. She was unlike anyone I had ever met. It was the same reason Kala had been drawn to her in the first place. There was just something about her that showed that she was unlike everyone else.

She seemed so withdrawn during school. When I saw her with Kala, she laughed, genuinely. Not the fake thing she used in the classroom, or the tree which she was now sitting under again. She was quiet, not putting much into a conversation – unless it was with Kala. Her face lit up when she talked about the things she loved. It was an easy observation to make, but only if you were in the right place at the right time. Which I usually was. My first few drawings of her had been terrible and I kept making mistakes. But as I watched her more, I was starting to draw more accurately.

Kala kept telling me to show Silah the artwork. I refused. “Not until I find one I like,” I had told her. And I meant it. I had never drawn a single person this much before, and I had never shown anyone except Kala. She had sighed and answered, “Tell her, before some other guy comes along and steals her away.”

I didn’t know how to feel about that.

I looked back at her again, watching her bite her lower lip in order to hide a small smile. Then one girl, from my art class – I had no idea what her name was – turned and glared at me. I quickly disappeared, back to my own group of friends. I didn’t want to hear what a freak she thought I was.

(SILAH’S P.O.V)

“That guy was staring at you.” Gemma said matter-of-factly, turning back towards me and bestowing a brilliant smile on me. I felt like she expected me to thank her for the service she had done in telling me.

“I know,” I answered quietly.

“Aren’t you, like, creeped out?” She demanded. “That is completely stalkerish. What if he wants to, like…”

“Enough.” I snapped. “I know him, okay? He’s a pretty cool guy.” I was tired of her nonsense. I had maths next period, and I really didn’t want to go.

Maths was even more hellish than usual without Kala here to keep me company. I couldn’t wait to escape…

The rest of the day flew by. My head was where I wished my body was; in my tree on View Hill. But I kept returning to the question Carter had asked me. Of course I would still be at View Hill. I was there every night, without fail. Only death would stop me from going there.

Climbing slowly up the incline of View Hill, I looked around warily for Carter. He was nowhere in sight. With an internal shrug I went to where he normally sat, sitting down among the lush grass at the very edge of the hill face. Below me was a dizzying drop. Somewhere in the distance a cricket started to chirp plaintively. I was trying to guess what Carter thought about when he sat up here when I spotted something on the ground.

It was a drawing pencil, one of those professional ones that are made out of all lead so you can do thick lines or thin ones without changing pencils. I spun it in my fingers, watching the way it glittered in the evening light.

“I’ve been looking for that,” Carter’s quiet voice made me jump. I quickly turned, to see him standing only a few metres away from me. How had I not heard him approach?

“Well… Here it is,” I said softly, holding it out to him. He smiled strangely before coming and sitting next to me, and taking the pencil from my outstretched fingers. It was quiet.

“What do you draw?” I asked, breaking the moment of silence. I looked sideways at him, wondering if he would answer. He seemed pretty withdrawn. I realised with surprise that this was the first proper conversation I had had with him alone, not counting today’s earlier little discussion.

Carter watched me for a long time before answering. “Landscapes, mostly. Sometimes I draw people, if they are interesting enough.” He grinned at me as he said, “just normal loser-weirdo stuff.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Oh… You heard that?” I groaned. “I barely even know her name, and suddenly she has the right to judge you for being different?!” I realised as I finished that my voice had quickly risen in volume until I was almost yelling. Oops.

I looked at Carter, just as he suddenly moved. The movement caught me off guard, and I uttered a small noise of pain as I slipped off the edge of the hill and down the steep side leading down into the valley.