The Faeyrwynn Prophecy

The Faeyrwynn Prophecy: Chapter Four

(11/14/12) Currently cleaning up this chapter. Small changes here and there, mostly restructuring worn-out sentences and adding in details and thought. ♥ 

The sun peaked through the clouds, burning away the early-morning mist. I squinted, watching the sky absently as I walked to Trenton High. After a dull weekend of sleeping and late night homework, it was Monday again.

Today was different though, for I was actually looking forward to going to school today. All thanks to that odd disappearing-into-thin-air girl.  It’s not like I liked her or anything, but I was intrigued. She held such a powerful air of mystery that seemed to hang over her.

Reassuring myself that I was not infatuated with the girl, I neared the school grounds. Warily, I scanned the front yard for my would-be assailants. No sign of them. Relieved at the prospect of a zero-conflict day, I quickened my pace.

I shrugged my backpack off, slinging it haphazardly into my locker. Straightening up the clutter at the bottom, I found a pale, blue post-it note. I flipped it over, and in intricate curling script it said:

“See you at lunch? My usual spot.

~M”

M? Oh! The girl!

Dazed, I reread the short note, hoping to glean some sort of hidden information from it. There had to be something more. She couldn’t possibly just write that little line.

But why didn’t I think of her as normal? Who was I kidding, for all I knew, she could be a damn alien. I snorted at the ridiculous thought. She was just another hormonal teenage girl, albeit, one who could take down guys easily three times her size and weight.

The late bell sounded, and I cursed under my breath. Taking long strides to my first class, I slid into my seat just after the final bell. I smiled apologetically at the teacher, but he only glared back, clearly annoyed. I sighed, leaning back in my chair, all thoughts revolving around the girl I was to meet at lunch.

~

Armed with a navy blue plastic tray in hand, I marched determinedly out to the courtyard. I scanned the line of tree, anxiously. The last three classes I had increasingly made myself more nervous with worry.  And yet there was no logical reason for my anxiety, except she might want to kick my butt for some bizarre reason.

I spotted her sitting beneath an old oak tree, fidgeting with the dead leaves that littered the grass around her, while examing a large text book. Relieved somewhat, I smiled, unconsciously flicking my hair to the side so that it concealed my bad eye.

“This yours?” I asked, waving the note at her.

She arched a perfect black eyebrow, and I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. In my anxiety, the note was severely creased and worn from my constant revisiting throughout the morning.

She giggled quietly, an amused smile resting on her lips.

“Yeah it was, actually. Come, sit,” she replied, gesturing to the spot beside her. I sat down, quite confused at her friendly mood.  She peered at me curiously, her intensely blue eyes studying me. The left side of her hair was tucked neatly behind an elf-like ear, and a rogue lock of black hair had escaped to frame her left cheekbone. She sat up, hugging her thin knees to her chest, pale arms crossed at the forearm. The girl hesitated, before speaking again.

“What happened to your eye?” she asked, shifting slightly so that she was leaning forward. Her eyes burned with unabashed curiosity.

I paused, taken aback. I hadn’t expected her, of all people, to ask me that so directly.

“Glass cut my eye the afternoon my mother crashed our car and died,” I stated bluntly, looking away. Absently, I picked up a dead leaf, crumbling it slowly as memories threatened to invade my peace of mind. It always hurt to think about, but saying it aloud was nauseatingly worse. I felt the familiar pang of loneliness once more, as my thoughts turned once more to my mother.

She reached out, placing a hand on my forearm. The hand was soft, and felt both icy cold and fiery hot at the same time. It seemed to burn and chill my arm, where she made contact. But it wasn’t at all unpleasant.

“I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically.   Suddenly aware of our lingering contact, she removed her hand. Awkward silence hung thick in the air for a few minutes, but I let it stay. If that was the only thing she wanted to talk about, then so be it. 

“The bell has rung,” she said quietly, her voice melancholy. The girl shot me an apologetic smile.

Reluctantly I stood up, offering her my hand. Surprised by the gesture, she took my hand and I pulled her to her feet. I set off towards the school, and the girl matched my pace as we neared the cafeteria doors. We both slowed down, since we were already late for class.

Just as we stepped into the halls, she began to speak again.

“So… you live with your dad?” she asked, poorly hiding the curiosity that lit her eyes. I smiled wryly. This girl just couldn't help herself, I thought, laughing inwardly. But I admired her boldness. Oh hell, why not?

“I’ve never met him before. After the accident, we couldn’t even find my mother’s body, and he never showed up at her memorial.”

My voice cracked a little on the word body, and I looked away to study the posters that adorned the walls.  We were close to the senior wing, and soon I would have to let her get to her class.  I had to ask her something though, before she slipped away again.

“Hey, I never got your name?”

She looked at me strangely, as if she expected me to ask something else. After a slight hesitation, she replied.

“It’s Meila,” she said, a small smile resting on her lips.

What did she think I was going to ask? We parted ways, and I walked down to the end of the senior wing. Meila. A strange name, exotic, but it fit her perfectly. Lost in thought, I arrived at my class.