Skin Deep

~ Seven ~

I didn't ride the bus to school. Instead I had my mom drop me off at the library where I traded my overdue books for unexplored ones, then I walked the two blocks to school. Wingson Hollows High. It was mid autumn and every tree was at the climax of color. The wind twirled about restlessly, scattering fallen leaves in its wake. With every step I heard the crisp crunching of dry foliage and acorns. I walked in to find the lobby's bulletin board adorned with navy and beige maple leaves, as if the rest of the school had been following the same train of thought. The letters H-O-M-E-C-O-M-I-N-G were stapled across the top of the board.  

In a small town like Wingson Hollows homecoming is a huge event. The staff and students of W.H.H.S. seemed to believe that we needed to prepare for battle by holding bon fires where jocks demolished old cars with sledge hammers and lavish dances where girls destroyed each others' self-esteem and reputations for the chance to be crowned queen. It was all so stupid really. 

My morning class went by slow, but I pasted the time daydreaming about insanely intense green eyes that were capable of turning the air around me into ice. I awoke from my revelry to find that I was no longer fantasizing; I was staring as Matt walked toward the desk behind me. It was time for English class already? I didn't even remember going to my locker but there sat my workbook on the desk in front of me. Matt slid into his seat behind mine and leaned forward. 

"My brother told me that there is going to be a quiz over literature terms today." I turned in my seat to face him. 

"Thanks for warning me." I said once I was positive I had been the person he had been speaking to. 

He smiled in reply. It caused the dragonflies in my stomach to take flight. I smiled back and turned to face the front of the room. I ran my fingers through my hair as I flipped through my notes. Suddenly I felt my finger being touched and I jerked my hand away. I started to spin around in my seat when I was frozen by the sweet sound of Matt's whispering voice. 

"I'm sorry. I was just looking your ring." I finished revolving in my chair and held my hand out as if I was just noticing it for the first time. "Where did you get it?" 

I started to offer him the same lie I gave my mother, but decided to go with "I found it" instead. 

He winked at me. "Finders keepers." 

I examined the ring. It laced around my finger as if the metal vines had grown there. The stone was the color of moon roses and it seemed the catch every bit of light in the room. I could have studied it longer but I was cut short by the collective moans of the class. Apparently Mrs. Reeves had announced the pop quiz. 

I tried not to fidget while the rest of the class was still filling out their tests. Matt had been the first to turn his quiz in and I could hear his pencil rubbing against paper in the silence. After a few moments Mrs. Reese informed us that once we finished we were to go to the library to pick out a book for a report due in two weeks. 

I scanned the rows of fiction books until I discovered a promising looking cover. I headed toward the front desk, and then I spotted Matt sitting alone in the corner and changed directions. 

He was sitting in the chair with one leg hanging over the arm and the other stretched out in front of him. There was an art book spread across his lap and a charcoal pencil behind his ear. His head rested against the back of his chair while his eyes grazed over each page. I walked up behind him, my flats making no sound on the plush carpet. 

Looking over his shoulder I could see that he was studying sketches of various landscapes and portraits. He turned the page just as he shifted his head to obstruct my view. Now all I could see was how silky soft his hair looked. It was like raven feathers, fine enough to be ruffled by the slight breeze of the air conditioning. 

His head sprung up as if I had been saying these thoughts out loud. The pencil behind his ear fell to the floor. He made no motion to retrieve it so I stepped forward to pick it up. 

"Thanks." He said as he pushed it back into place. "Did you come to take your chair back?" He smiled up at me and wiped away any memory of why I had come over. 

"I just thought you book looked interesting."  

He stood and gestured for me to sit as he pulled over a chair from an empty table. 

"I didn't know you were into art?" He placed his feet under the chair and gripped the edge of the seat with both hands. 

"I'm more into the 3D mediums." I confessed. "But only because I lack the ability to paint or draw." 

He laughed and we both looked up as the other students motioned that it was time to go. 

I decided to add a few more things to my art project to make it more interesting. I bought a charcoal pencil from the school's supply store (which was actually a supply closet in the sectary's office) and pasted it into the hand of my decoupage Matt. Then I covered the empty background with copies of sketches just for fun. 

The art teacher, Mr. Ramey, asked me to do a collage to submit in his annual student art auction. So I hid my poster in its usual spot and got to work creating something that could earn back the cost of the supplies I used to make it. I was shocked that Mr. Ramey had picked me as one of the students to display their pieces. Never-the-less I got a new poster and began cutting up magazines.

I tried to copy the heartbreaking faun that I had seen hanging on the wall the day before. I chose my clippings from pages of a hunting magazine. It almost felt like cheating to let the images do the work for me, but my head was in another place.

I flipped through page after page of high tech gadgets promising easy success. I thought the whole point of hunting was the thrill of a challenge? Apparently I wasn't the only one achieving goals the easy way. Lucky for me there were plenty of deer pictures. I guess it wasn't too lucky for most of the deer though. The bell rang and I stuffed the magazine in my bag and slid my poster in the spot with my make-shift Matt.