Four Wings

1. Unknown

7 years after

Dakan - now 18

~<>~

"Hey, Kan!" Jason, yells at me from my car as  I walk out the school doors. 

I wave, signalling I heard him, and head over and climb in the driver's side with him already in shotgun and the other guy, Eric, who currently has his nose buried in a textbook, in the back. Neither of them know about where I come from or what I am, but I've been friends with them since I moved here. Eric's a little shorter than me, with straight dark blond hair and hazel eyes, whereas I have dark brown wavy hair and brown eyes. He's a bookworm, and he helps Jason and me with studying sometimes. Jason transferred from Korea in our sophomore year, and he's in track - seriously, that guy can run.

As I start the car and pull out of the parking lot. Eric's head appears between us and asks, "So, how are classes coming? Last quarter starts tomorrow. You ready for graduation yet?" 

Jase ignores him, winks at me, and grins. "I also heard there's a new girl, just enrolled here for the last quarter. She's a senior, but she's only seventeen. Must have skipped a grade or something, I guess."

"D'you know what her name is?" I ask, slightly curious.

"Nah. My lab partner told me about her and said he heard about it from two teachers who were talking in the lounge, but didn't catch her name."

"Seriously? Oh, well. Did you hear where she's from, though? She had to have just moved here if she's joining so late in the year."

"I don't know, man. I heard Colorado, Arizona, Wyoming, and a ton of other Western States. The other seniors are all wondering who's enrolling so late, so there are a lot of different theories."

Wyoming...I have a sudden memory of a little girl in the woods and wonder, did her mother ever came back for her, or is she still living with Mom's friend?

"Huh. Oh, well, I guess I'll see her for myself soon enough."

He jabs me with his elbow and smirks. "Maybe she'll catch your interest, since everyone else here is apparently 'not your type'. Come on, you've said that about everyone - what even is your type?"

"I doubt that. I have no idea who she is. And I'm just not interested in them. I have my reasons." I say, my voice tight and my knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. Eric notices my tension and doesn't press the issue.

They aren't my type because they're not S - because I couldn't tell them about me. What I am. I couldn't be with them, because they would never understand. I want someone to understand me, and they couldn't.

~<>~

After I drop Jase, then Eric, I can finally head back home. Mom's making spaghetti tonight, and her sauce is really good. 

I pull into the driveway, stop my car, and grab all my stuff out of the trunk. As soon as I'm inside the door, I sling my backpack off and let my wings snap out. They appear on my back in a whoosh of dark feathers, phasing through my t-shirt like they always do, and I breathe a big sigh of relief. ...finally. I can be myself again.

Hiding them all day, every day, isn't easy, but I had to get used to it - and good at it - as soon as I started going to school. There might have been a few questions if an eleven-year-old boy walked into 5th grade with black feathered wings on his back, y'know?

Kicking off my shoes and dropping my bag beside them, I head toward the kitchen and call, "Mom! I'm home, the spaghetti smells great!"

"Hello, dear!" My mom comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron, wings hidden - can't have feathers in the food. "Can you help me put the dishes on?"