Each Vibrant Memory

When I got to school the next morning, I saw Warren leaning casually against the building, as though he was waiting for someone. He stiffened when he saw me.

"Good morning, Lydia." I nodded acknowledgement and walked through the door, heading towards my locker. It took several seconds before I realized that he was walking next to me. When I looked up at him, I saw that he'd been studying me.

"I don't understand you," I said honestly. I'd always had a bit of a problem- I told the truth, always, and very rarely was I able to filter it. I took saying what was on my mind to a whole new level. It didn't usually end well.

Before I could even blush at my frankness, he smiled a little. "I don't understand you, either."

"Yes, but I'm not following you, now am I?" I pointed out. We reached my locker and I spun the combination. Ignoring him, I crouched down and started picking out my books, carefully angling myself so that he couldn't see straight down my shirt.

It didn't end up mattering, though- when I glanced up at him, he was glaring at a picture I'd hung on my locker door with a magnet, one of me and my brother. "Who's this?" he asked in a hard voice that was a startling contrast to the cheeriness he'd spoken with just moments before.

"That's Christopher," I said, distracted. From the floor, Warren looked like a giant. Maybe he was one. Never in my life had I met someone so tall.

"And what's he to you?" Warren's voice trembled with something strangely like anger. A glimmer of one of my novel-dreams slammed into the forefront of my mind.

"What is he to you?" Antoine asked Genevieve. They were at a society ball, or they had been before he pulled her out to the gardens without warning.

Genevieve was angry. "Someone will have noticed us leaving together. I won't be able to show my face in public for weeks without whispers following me." Secretly, she was pleased to see him so worked up over another man simply pecking her on the cheek. Something about his jealousy made it very difficult to remember proper decorum.

"Genevieve. Answer me."

The two glared at each other for several long moments, and Genevieve finally gave in. "He's my brother," she answered reluctantly. At least Antoine had the good graces to look a little sheepish, she thought.

"Lydia?" Warren asked, calling me back to the present. I smiled sheepishly and didn't bother explaining. I had tried to explain these vivid dreams to someone once, and suffice it to say it hadn't gone too well. That wasn't an experience I felt like repeating.

"He's my brother. My twin brother, if you want to be specific." I did my best not to sound amused, but I didn't think it worked. He glanced at my face and grimaced.

"Oh," was all he said. I started walking down the hall to my first class of the day, determined not to be late this time, and he tagged along again.

"Why are you following me?" I asked.

"I'm not," Warren said. I shot him a look and he blushed. "Fine, I am. But I'd rather you called it 'walking you to class.'"

"And why would you do that?" My brother always said I ask too many questions. Maybe he was right, but I wouldn't have to if people would just explain themselves better.

"I told you yesterday, I want to know you," Warren grumbled, glaring at the books he was carrying.

"So you did. Why?"

Warren groaned, and seemed sort of amused. I was thankful for the change, because it was bad enough conversing this way with a total stranger. Having him constantly annoyed only made it worse. "I'm changing the subject. Why did you move here?"

"I'd rather not say." Now it was my turn to avoid his gaze.

"Why?" it was Warren's turn to ask, and he smiled.

Fine. If he really wanted an explanation, he would get one. "We've owned a house here for ages, since my parents first got married, but we were renting it out. The tenants moved, and we needed a change of scenery, so here we are." I carefully omitted the reason for the change of scenery. I didn't want to talk about my mom with this stranger, kind though he seemed to be… mostly.

"See? That wasn't too hard, was it?" He bumped his side into mine, and I grinned.

"No, not too hard," I agreed. We came to a halt outside of my classroom. "Here's my stop."

"I'll see you later, okay?" Warren didn't move, and looked expectant. What, he actually expected an answer? This just kept getting stranger.

"Alright. Bye, Warren."

I sat down just as the bell rang, and the teacher gave me another disapproving look. I groaned. I really wasn't putting myself into his favor.

It only got worse throughout class. I wasn't able to concentrate, instead replaying my conversations with Warren, trying to figure out why exactly he seemed so intent on talking to me. I was totally average. Boring, even, compared to most of the people here. Strangely, it seemed like everyone in this school had a very unique identity. All I had was that I was the new girl, which wasn't exactly something to be proud of.

And when I wasn't thinking about Warren, I was daydreaming, something that I did often enough, but not so intensely. My mind kept drifting over one particular story that I had written about a girl named Milly who had lived during the 1800s. She wasn't anything special, not until she met one dashing rule-breaker by the name of Gareth Simon. She used to sneak out every night to meet him, far away from her controlling parents and the reality of their situation- that she was a daughter of privilege, and he was a lowly blacksmith. She was destined to marry someone with an arrogant legacy and an even more arrogant demeanor, to leave him far behind. And yet she continued to escape, choosing to live in the fantasy world that they managed to create together, staying out so late that her parents sent countless physicians after her to figure out why she was always so tired…

I didn't notice that the teacher was calling my name until I realized that the entire class was laughing. "Are you with us, Miss Gallagher?" I nodded, ducking my head to hide the blush that was surely sweeping across my cheeks. How embarrassing.

But even that didn't stop my mind from wandering back to Warren. Would he be in any of my classes? I didn't know, since he wasn't in school yesterday- I'd have to remember to ask him about why that was. I mean, who shows up for school and leaves before it even starts? Why bother getting up so early when you were going to skip, anyway?

I was too curious for my own good, and had never been able to keep myself out of other people's business. Call it a weakness of mine.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. I rushed out of the room, afraid of the teacher flagging me down and reprimanding me for my lack of attention and poor punctuality. I didn't go anywhere though, instead pulling out my schedule. I thought I knew where I was going next, but I wanted to make sure. I didn't want to be one of those people who shows up to the wrong class and doesn't notice it until after roll call.

"Lydia!" Warren came up to me and was grinning. "What do you have next?"

I found the square where my next class was marked and groaned. "Gym."

"Hey, me, too! Do you not like gym?" I hadn't yesterday, I thought. Most people had ignored me. When we had to pair up to volley a ball back and forth, I'd ended up with the teacher. It was humiliating, and not fun in the least.

Maybe now it would be better. I wasn't really counting on that, though. "Not really," I said, shrugging.

"Oh, come on. It's fun. A class where you don't have to think. No pop quizzes, no studying. No one expects you to sit quietly and listen to some endless lecture on things that none of us care about in the first place. Besides, I'm pretty good at just about every sport," he added with an arrogant smile.

"You're such a typical boy." I was mostly joking, but Warren's smile faded.

"I'm not," he said seriously, looking me dead in the eye.

"If that's what you want to believe." I smiled faintly to hide my discomfort. People were staring. Lots and lots of people. I looked at them apprehensively. It hadn't been like this yesterday. Warren saw where my eyes were directed.

"Get used to it, Lydia. You and I, we're going to be the talk of the school," he said with an easy confidence that I couldn't help but envy.

"Why? What do you mean?" My stomach turned and my heart spazzed.

But we'd just reached the gym. "What timing! I'll see you in class," Warren said, grinning, as he walked into the boy's locker room.

It was hard to even pretend to be angry with Warren for long, I was so grateful to have him as a partner. Even if it did look as though he'd been completely serious and not at all deluded when he said he was good at just about any sport. I, on the other hand, was embarrassing myself for the umpteenth time that day. But then, what else was new? At least it kept things interesting.

I hit myself as much as I hit the ball, which seemed to amuse Warren to no end. "Now I can see why you weren't looking forward to this class," he said cheekily after a particularly pathetic serve. I just laughed with him. I was in a good enough mood that the honesty of his statement didn't really bother me. Besides, how could I be angry at him when he was looking at me that way, like I was the only one in the room? Like I was the most interesting girl in the world?

I knew that would stop after the new-student novelty wore off, but I planned on enjoying it while I could.

Instead of eating alone today, as I had yesterday, Warren dragged me off to his table. He introduced me to his friends, and I was surprised to recognize Dalton from yesterday.

"Hey, Lydia. It's nice to see you again," he said politely, shooting Warren a sly look.

"You know her?" Warren demanded. He looked... angry? "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"He showed me to the office yesterday morning." Why would Dalton have told Warren? Why would I have possibly come up? But here Warren was, glaring at him.

"It's no big deal," Dalton said in a soothing voice. I knew my confusion was clear on my face, but I didn't bother trying to hide it. People tended to explain things more when they knew that you were genuinely curious.

I didn't get any explanations, but a kindly looking girl named Ellie gave me a sympathetic look. She was obviously dating the boy sitting next to her, who was named Isaac. The way he looked at her, it was like she was all that mattered. It was a little spooky for high school, but I couldn't help but envy her that. I hoped to have someone half that devoted, someday. Someday far, far in the future.

Warren and Dalton were done arguing now, and both were eating insanely fast. I couldn't believe how much food all of the boys at the table seemed to be eating. "How are you all not three hundred pounds?" I asked, wonder evident in my voice.

They all laughed, and I wondered what the joke was. "We just burn a lot of calories," Isaac said, grinning.

"Doing what?"

"Running," Warren said. He didn't look like he was going to add any more, and I shut up about it. Even I knew when not to press an issue.