by Lucy Swing
―Are you guys okay?‖ I asked.
They closed their mouths and nodded, trying to make it seem as though all was well. Claire opened her notebook, while Nate leaned back on his seat, entwining his fingers behind his head. But their expressions remained strange. They were always the very picture of calm, peace, and tranquility, but right now their eyes showed a mixture of surprise and anxiety. Almost crackling with tension, they looked at each other but didn‘t say a word.
―Seriously guys,‖ I said, ―what‘s up?‖
The abrupt opening of the classroom door captured everyone‘s attention. I jumped in my seat, banging my knees against my desk, half expecting to see a blood-crazed zombie come lurching in. But it was only Mr. Morris, fumbling through an apologetic explanation instead of enjoying his prerogative to be late.
The clamor subsided as Morris began the usual introductions and explanations, with the usual little chirps and flutters from the class interrupting his routine speech. A minute or two into this, the door swung open again, and he walked in, with his backpack slung over one shoulder. I looked down at my notebook and tried to hide the smile that crept over my face. From the corner of my eye, I saw Nate and Claire staring at me, but I was too excited to pay them much attention. The latecomer handing in his tardy slip was far more interesting.
―Oh, so the new kid is late on his very first day,‖ Mr. Morris joked as he placed the slip on top of some scattered papers on his desk. He looked over his roster. ―Don‘t worry, you get the standard punishment: staying awake for the rest of class.‖
A few alert kids, including me, chuckled, but we all stopped when he spoke again: ―All right, everyone,‖ he continued while the new kid stood next to him, looking a little selfconscious. ―Our newcomer‘s name is Avan Thomas. Someone, please let him sit down without making him feel awkward.‖Avan took a step forward.
I gave him a quick overall glance again, and then my eyes ran back to his face, where, to my surprise and discomfort, they met his. I turned away, pretending to be casual, pretending that his being here didn‘t faze me in the least, but I still felt strangely embarrassed. I was relieved when he put those eyes to work scanning for an empty desk—which happened to be the one beside mine. Before sitting down, he smiled and insolently saluted everyone who had been staring. I giggled under my breath as Mr. Morris went on with his droning.
After searching his bag, Avan reluctantly turned my way. I felt every muscle in my body stiffen up. He was about to tap my shoulder when Claire grabbed my arm so hard, she almost pulled me out of my seat.
Way to go, Claire—make me look clumsy! I thought. Though I have to admit, if there was a wall in front of me, it was a good bet I would walk straight into it.
―What!‖ I hissed in an exasperated tone.
―Pay attention to class,‖ she said, giving my arm a final squeeze.
I looked at Avan and gave him an apologetic smile. I waited for him to continue with what he was going to say, but instead he looked away and at Nick Frost, who was sitting on his other side, and leaned over. After a short whisper, Nick dug into his backpack and pulled out a pen, which he handed nervously to Avan. No one ever talked to Nick. He had transferred from Hollow Falls public school in sophomore year and had instantly been treated like a leper. I guess the curly red hair, acne, and thickframed reading glasses didn‘t help his case.
As I looked forward, trying hard to listen to what was in store for the rest of the year; I could see some of the girls in class turn around and bat their mascaraed eyelashes at Avan. Some were whispering to each other, while others just ―happened‖ to look his way. Could they perhaps be a little more obvious? He had been in the room for all of three minutes, and he already had half the girls drooling over him. I looked at him from the corner of my eye. He was dreamy. It was pretty clear that he would not be another Nick Frost.
Close to the end of class, while Mr. Morris was still busy scrawling unreadable hieroglyphics on the chalkboard, Avan finally spoke to me.―Hi.‖
I turned to find him smiling at me, his dark hair falling over his blue eyes.
―Hi.‖ My voice trembled. Why was he making me so nervous?
―You‘re still awake,‖ he said, doing a mock stretch and messing up his hair with his hand. He had a thick black leather bracelet on his wrist—the very one I was always eyeing at the local Hot Topic store.
―Barely,‖ I said, laughing. ―I‘m Jade.‖ By instinct, I suppose, I stuck out my hand.
―Avan,‖ he said, shaking it.
I could never have prepared myself for what happened next. The instant our hands touched, an explosion of light blinded me. My hand tensed up so hard, my joints hurt. Through the dazzling brightness, I could see the charge in his blue eyes. The image before me changed into one of me floating in the sky, falling . . . until I reached him. I felt his hand go limp, and I instantly let go, realizing that I was holding my breath.
I took a deep breath, and the blazing light slowly dimmed. It took some time for my eyes to adjust, and a little bit longer for my heart to stop trying to jump out of my chest. After a first period that had proved to be anything but boring, the bell rang.
―That‘s quite a grip you‘ve got there, Jade,‖ Avan said, rubbing his hand in make-believe pain and smiling nervously as he got up.
―Y-yeah,‖ I stuttered. Trying to lighten the mood, I added, ―I work out—what can I say?‖
Had he felt it, too? Had he seen the bright light? I looked nervously at Claire, who had turned to face us. Her eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets.
What the hell had just happened?
Any trace of that girlish excitement was wiped away by what I can only call an instant transformation of my being. Avan got up and walked toward the door, melting into the eager, boisterousthrong of dismissed students. He was tall enough that I could see him out in the hall, making a quick study of his schedule before disappearing down the hall. It felt as though I sat still forever at my desk before I dared to sling my messenger bag over my head and look at Claire. Everything now felt normal; all systems seemed to be working fine. This heartened me. Claire looked at me and then to where Avan had disappeared.
―You have no idea what you‘ve just done,‖ she murmured.
To read more, please visit http://www.lucyswing.com to purchase a paperback, or find it in Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes and more.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR Lucy Swing lives in sunny Florida with her husband and two children.
She is a YA Paranormal/ Romance writer, who has just finished her first novel, "Feathermore‖ (to be released later this month) Bloody Valentine is also offered in "Death by Chocolate," an anthology consisting of 6 fantastic YA short stories with a chocolaty twist. The story in the anthology is shorter than this novella.
She is an absolute book hoarder and must always have a book at arms distance. Music is her muse, and there is always a soundtrack that plays along her life.
