Sway
Fear.
It wasn't until the teacher called him to the front that Aubree realized he had been studying her nearly as hard as she was him. She blushed, blood rushing to her cheeks. He shuttered and started to the front of the room. Girls giggled as he passed by them, blushing as well. Aubree continued studying him, confused by how he was reacting to the girls. Most guys there would kill for that attention.
"Would you like to tell the class a bit about yourself, Mr..." Mrs. Furguson faded off, allowing him to introduce himself.
"Blair Angelov," he smiled at her. "I've traveled quite a bit, but I'm finally going to try and stay put here. At least, for a little while."
Aubree remembered her first day. Mrs. Furguson had had her tell her whole life story by allowing the class to ask whatever questions that they wanted. The whole Q&A ended when someone had asked, "Why, exactly, did you have to move here with your grandmother?" To which she replied, "My parents. They went boom."
Sure enough, Mrs. F asked the class if they had any questions for Blair. A bunch of girls raised their hands, asking about where he's all traveled, how he gets his hair so 'like, perfect', and other silly things. Some guys asked if he played sports, which he said all of them, but he won't be any competition here.
Then, someone asked, "What about your family? Where are they?"
The room went quiet and Aubree finally decided to truly pay attention. "Well," Blair began, "My father ran away not soon after I was born, and my mother died in a fire. I had a sister, but I have no idea where she is because after mother died I was sent to some orphanage." He gave a sad smile.
Aubree thought back to her parents and brother. She smiled to herself, remembering when life was normal. The smile quickly faded away when she thought about what got her here, in this piece of crap place. Aubree put her head down on her desk, trying not to let any tears or emotion show on her face. When she looked back up, Blair was walking down the aisle to take a the desk next to her.
The rest of the class, Blair sat facing forward, occasionally scribbling down a few things the teacher said. Aubree would sneak glances between him and her sketch of the boy in her dream. Every time she looked up at him though, he'd look towards her. She finally gave up, shoving her sketch book into her bag with an exhausted sigh. She swore she saw a small smirk on Blair's lips.
Late the following night, Aubree lay on top of her roof, right out side her window. Her headphones were in, almost no sound coming from them, and her sketch book was laying out in front of her, along with all sorts of art supplies. She was drawing him.
Out of no where, a rather large gust of wind swept over her. All of the markers and pencils flew. Aubree herself almost fell over too. "What the fuck?" She swore to herself, hurrying to grab as much of her things as she could, chucking them into her window. But, silly her, she forgot her sketch book. It flew to the edge of her roof and she continued her rant under her breath, "Stupid mother nature."
As she neared the edge, her typically rough exterior seemed to fade. She was scared of heights. Slowly, she wiggled herself closer to the edge, reaching for her book. She was almost to it, when another gust of wind sent it flying again, causing her to lunge for it, loosing her balance as she began to fall three stories.
"Would you like to tell the class a bit about yourself, Mr..." Mrs. Furguson faded off, allowing him to introduce himself.
"Blair Angelov," he smiled at her. "I've traveled quite a bit, but I'm finally going to try and stay put here. At least, for a little while."
Aubree remembered her first day. Mrs. Furguson had had her tell her whole life story by allowing the class to ask whatever questions that they wanted. The whole Q&A ended when someone had asked, "Why, exactly, did you have to move here with your grandmother?" To which she replied, "My parents. They went boom."
Sure enough, Mrs. F asked the class if they had any questions for Blair. A bunch of girls raised their hands, asking about where he's all traveled, how he gets his hair so 'like, perfect', and other silly things. Some guys asked if he played sports, which he said all of them, but he won't be any competition here.
Then, someone asked, "What about your family? Where are they?"
The room went quiet and Aubree finally decided to truly pay attention. "Well," Blair began, "My father ran away not soon after I was born, and my mother died in a fire. I had a sister, but I have no idea where she is because after mother died I was sent to some orphanage." He gave a sad smile.
Aubree thought back to her parents and brother. She smiled to herself, remembering when life was normal. The smile quickly faded away when she thought about what got her here, in this piece of crap place. Aubree put her head down on her desk, trying not to let any tears or emotion show on her face. When she looked back up, Blair was walking down the aisle to take a the desk next to her.
The rest of the class, Blair sat facing forward, occasionally scribbling down a few things the teacher said. Aubree would sneak glances between him and her sketch of the boy in her dream. Every time she looked up at him though, he'd look towards her. She finally gave up, shoving her sketch book into her bag with an exhausted sigh. She swore she saw a small smirk on Blair's lips.
Late the following night, Aubree lay on top of her roof, right out side her window. Her headphones were in, almost no sound coming from them, and her sketch book was laying out in front of her, along with all sorts of art supplies. She was drawing him.
Out of no where, a rather large gust of wind swept over her. All of the markers and pencils flew. Aubree herself almost fell over too. "What the fuck?" She swore to herself, hurrying to grab as much of her things as she could, chucking them into her window. But, silly her, she forgot her sketch book. It flew to the edge of her roof and she continued her rant under her breath, "Stupid mother nature."
As she neared the edge, her typically rough exterior seemed to fade. She was scared of heights. Slowly, she wiggled herself closer to the edge, reaching for her book. She was almost to it, when another gust of wind sent it flying again, causing her to lunge for it, loosing her balance as she began to fall three stories.