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Description
essential yet appealed,
carry all your thoughts
across an open field
when flowers gaze at you,
they're not the only ones
who cry when they see you...

"So, I thought we should hang out later this week, since the test is on Friday. Also, I want to know your opinion on…"
He couldn't help watching her. She was rather conspicuous, not only because of her beauty, but because she was the only girl sitting at the table across the cafeteria. In a normal society, a girl with only an apple and a yogurt on her plate would also be noticeable, but in his high school, it was not. Her head rested on the shoulder of Tory, a prize champ who maintained a 4.0 by buying essays and throwing ragers at which people were known to play a variety of disgusting games. It seemed that almost half of the school stopped by the table just to talk to her. She talked to most, amiably nodding and smiling, but she was always the one to turn away first. She was the one who dismissed.
"Avi. Avi? AVI!"
"Sorry?"
Avi turned back to his best friend, Blair, who looked at him questioningly, brown eyes wide.
"What's up with you?"
"Nothing. Just tired."
"Have you told your parents yet?"
"You know why I can't do that."
Her eyes darkened with concern.
"Avi…the longer you wait, the worse it's going to be. And there's really nothing to be ashamed of."
"Don't lie to me, Blair. I'm planning to ditch my family with no warning, even though they need me. I'm pretty much the most selfish human being on the planet."
"It's not like you'll be draining them of money…"
"You know what? I don't want to have this conversation anymore."
"Fine."
She bit into the pizza of congealed cheese and squishy bread. Her figure showed the three square meals she ate daily. Avi constantly reassured her that she wasn't fat. But he doesn't know, she always thought, how it is to look like this in comparison…
His eyes wandered back to Cala and her congregation. Blair followed his direction with her own.
"I hate her," she said simply. It was too much to take in: those legs like long twigs, that perfect skin that seemed lit from within, the hair that reflected light whenever she moved. Blair could not help feeling like a dumpy gnome in contrast.
"She's kind of a brat," he admitted.
Blair glared at him, for he continued to stare.
"What?"
"So you think she's a brat…but you don't hate her? Explain to me how that works."
"Well…I don't think I can really hate or judge someone unless I know what they've been through."
He recalled her wet face, the way she clutched her kitten, as if it were her only friend. Perhaps he had dreamed all of it, all of her vulnerability. After all, she was surrounded by people, smile alight, perfectly content. She was beautiful and adored. From where he was sitting, she had absolutely nothing to cry about.
***
"I'm going to head home," Ms. Rice said, putting her keychain necklace over her graying head. "Can you lock up, Will?"
"Avi nodded, finding the old librarian's dottiness a comfort rather than a liability.
"Sure thing, ma'am."
He continued to log the returned book into the computer until darkness closed over his eyes. Well, relative darkness, really. He could see cracks of red light in between the fingers of the hands.
"Guess who?"
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Tsk, tsk. Language."
The darkness was released, and he found Cala sitting cross-legged on the wide, metal table.
"Any new developments?" she asked.
"You love every minute of the attention you get. You drink it in. All of it. Your ass being grabbed in the hallway, the whistles, the catcalls, the fawning," he answered, trying to avoid her by focusing on the screen in front of him.
Her silence scared him more than her effervescence.
"I hate it," she whispered, hugging herself around her narrow shoulders.
"No you don't."
"I hate it. You learn to pretend."
"What do you want from me?" he asked suddenly, clutching his head as if caught in a tempest, trying to protect it from the impact of the wind.
"I don't know. I guess I wanted you to be different. You seemed different."
She slid off the table, arms crossed, and ran for the door.
"Wait. Hey, wait!"
He ran after her, grabbed her arm, spun her around to find that her eyes were dead, blue shards of glass. He had killed them and he wanted to spark them again.
"I am different. Tell me what you hate."
She grabbed his shoulders and came as close to his face as she could without their lips touching.
"Why should I?" she whispered.
As she let go of the cloth of his shirt that had bunched up in her fingers he saw her come alive again in a little more color to her cheeks, a little more light shining from her eyes. When she turned and ran out of the library, he thought to himself that he had never before met a person that ran so hot and cold.

Description
essential yet appealed,
carry all your thoughts
across an open field
when flowers gaze at you,
they're not the only ones
who cry when they see you...

"So, I thought we should hang out later this week, since the test is on Friday. Also, I want to know your opinion on…"
He couldn't help watching her. She was rather conspicuous, not only because of her beauty, but because she was the only girl sitting at the table across the cafeteria. In a normal society, a girl with only an apple and a yogurt on her plate would also be noticeable, but in his high school, it was not. Her head rested on the shoulder of Tory, a prize champ who maintained a 4.0 by buying essays and throwing ragers at which people were known to play a variety of disgusting games. It seemed that almost half of the school stopped by the table just to talk to her. She talked to most, amiably nodding and smiling, but she was always the one to turn away first. She was the one who dismissed.
"Avi. Avi? AVI!"
"Sorry?"
Avi turned back to his best friend, Blair, who looked at him questioningly, brown eyes wide.
"What's up with you?"
"Nothing. Just tired."
"Have you told your parents yet?"
"You know why I can't do that."
Her eyes darkened with concern.
"Avi…the longer you wait, the worse it's going to be. And there's really nothing to be ashamed of."
"Don't lie to me, Blair. I'm planning to ditch my family with no warning, even though they need me. I'm pretty much the most selfish human being on the planet."
"It's not like you'll be draining them of money…"
"You know what? I don't want to have this conversation anymore."
"Fine."
She bit into the pizza of congealed cheese and squishy bread. Her figure showed the three square meals she ate daily. Avi constantly reassured her that she wasn't fat. But he doesn't know, she always thought, how it is to look like this in comparison…
His eyes wandered back to Cala and her congregation. Blair followed his direction with her own.
"I hate her," she said simply. It was too much to take in: those legs like long twigs, that perfect skin that seemed lit from within, the hair that reflected light whenever she moved. Blair could not help feeling like a dumpy gnome in contrast.
"She's kind of a brat," he admitted.
Blair glared at him, for he continued to stare.
"What?"
"So you think she's a brat…but you don't hate her? Explain to me how that works."
"Well…I don't think I can really hate or judge someone unless I know what they've been through."
He recalled her wet face, the way she clutched her kitten, as if it were her only friend. Perhaps he had dreamed all of it, all of her vulnerability. After all, she was surrounded by people, smile alight, perfectly content. She was beautiful and adored. From where he was sitting, she had absolutely nothing to cry about.
***
"I'm going to head home," Ms. Rice said, putting her keychain necklace over her graying head. "Can you lock up, Will?"
"Avi nodded, finding the old librarian's dottiness a comfort rather than a liability.
"Sure thing, ma'am."
He continued to log the returned book into the computer until darkness closed over his eyes. Well, relative darkness, really. He could see cracks of red light in between the fingers of the hands.
"Guess who?"
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Tsk, tsk. Language."
The darkness was released, and he found Cala sitting cross-legged on the wide, metal table.
"Any new developments?" she asked.
"You love every minute of the attention you get. You drink it in. All of it. Your ass being grabbed in the hallway, the whistles, the catcalls, the fawning," he answered, trying to avoid her by focusing on the screen in front of him.
Her silence scared him more than her effervescence.
"I hate it," she whispered, hugging herself around her narrow shoulders.
"No you don't."
"I hate it. You learn to pretend."
"What do you want from me?" he asked suddenly, clutching his head as if caught in a tempest, trying to protect it from the impact of the wind.
"I don't know. I guess I wanted you to be different. You seemed different."
She slid off the table, arms crossed, and ran for the door.
"Wait. Hey, wait!"
He ran after her, grabbed her arm, spun her around to find that her eyes were dead, blue shards of glass. He had killed them and he wanted to spark them again.
"I am different. Tell me what you hate."
She grabbed his shoulders and came as close to his face as she could without their lips touching.
"Why should I?" she whispered.
As she let go of the cloth of his shirt that had bunched up in her fingers he saw her come alive again in a little more color to her cheeks, a little more light shining from her eyes. When she turned and ran out of the library, he thought to himself that he had never before met a person that ran so hot and cold.