My arms flew into the air as my feet slid sideways. Pin- wheeling, I jerked backward, and after a harrowing moment was able to regain my balance on drier ground. Relief swept through me and I went to draw in a breath to calm myself. My hands went to my neck and I doubled over, heaving in panic. Darn it all, if I hadn't just lodged the wad of gum in my windpipe.
Oh crap! I clawed at the outside of my throat, green vision starting to spot. I staggered to my left, feet dangerously nearing the puddle—when out of nowhere something hit me from behind like a ton of bricks. It knocked me to the floor, dislodging the gum and leaving me gasping. Yep, this day had managed to find a way to become that much lamer. Kudos to it.
Lungs still on fire but thankfully filling with air now, I lifted my head. Blinking, I realized that everything was solid again; the green was gone. The wad of gum was over yonder on the floor and there was a book bag nearby. Okay, so I'd been hit by books rather than bricks. A shower of glitter from my shirt surrounded me on the mall floor.
"Are you okay?"
I propped myself up on an elbow to see a young man sitting hunched forward. His hand was on his back, rubbing where he too had apparently hit the ground. I eyed him with timid curiosity. Longish, ash-colored hair obscured his face.
"Um, yes," I managed, voice breathless, still focused on his hair. It was trimmed into layers and cropped at the neck, styled as if it were the human version of a lion's mane.
His posture straightened, and he peered at me through the wild tangles before sending it backward with a toss of his head. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to knock you down."
I shrugged at his realization that we were both on the ground, flinching when I chose to move the wrong shoulder. He was instantly on his feet, standing over me as if my arm had just fallen off.
"I'm okay, really," I insisted, flushing at his intense concern. "I'm just an incredible klutz is all, and I-I..." I paused in awe when he bent closer, finding that I could hardly breathe as I took in his eyes. Such color. So profoundly rich that it bypassed blue altogether. He has amethyst eyes.
His lips moved, and I blinked, trying to remember how to decipher the English language. He might have asked "Are you okay?" again, but I didn't know for certain. So what came out of my mouth next was the automatic response I gave when the issue of my well- being was brought into question: "I'm fine."
Frowning, he replied, "How can you be fine when I just knocked you down?"
"I am, really," I said, watching his eyes blink. "Do you have contacts in?" I blurted. Oh well, so much for tact.
"No. This is my natural color." He tilted his head and touched the corner of one eye.
"Oh," was my lame response. Letting my eyes slide shut, my face warmed with embarrassment. Jeez, I must sound like such a half- wit.
I peeked out from beneath my lashes and spied the boy studying me. A bemused expression—actual interest—flowed across his handsome face. And he was very good looking, in a way that left me aching self-consciously.
I glanced over at the gum on the floor. "Um, thank you, for the Heimlich-tackle maneuver. While I don't believe the tackle part is standard, it still proved to be quite effective." Something about the sudden jolt of it had also fixed my vision.
"It's not a problem. Really," he responded as he crouched beside me. The sincerity in his words warmed the back of my throat when I swallowed. "But if I had a chance to do it over, I would try my best not to knock you down." He smiled widely then, amethyst eyes exuding a kindheartedness as he extended his hand to me. "Can I help you up, little one?"
Eyes wide, I looked at his hand. There was something about his mannerisms, his—kindness—that radiated from his personality to rest sweetly against my tongue. The type of kindness my heart was starved for. I found I wanted to reach out to him, allow him to pull me effortlessly to my feet, and yet, when I reached out and our fingers were about to touch, I bailed. My hand fell back.
"I've got it," I mumbled, gathering legs under me to stand. I was unhappy with myself, not him, of course. It wasn't his fault I couldn't let anyone in. "And I'm not that little," I added when I was on my feet, avoiding his eyes.
"Well, compared to me, you kind of are." He chuckled, not giving any indication he felt slighted.
Feeling somewhat encouraged that he hadn't taken my aversion to heart, I lifted my gaze—and I found myself staring at the middle of a T-shirt that stretched across a delicately toned chest. Gulp.
Genuinely surprised, I found his face grinning down at me from a whole foot above. His shoulders were broad without being too overpowering, arms toned like marble sculpted with an artisan's subtle touch. It gave him the appearance of someone who was capable of an immense amount of strength while still being able to command a great gentleness. His complexion glowed on the upper parts of his body—the tops of his arms, his neck above the collar of his shirt, his nose and cheekbones—where the sun's concentrated touch had come to rest more often. I found myself imagining those areas on his body would be warmer to the touch, and I blushed and looked away, wondering what it must feel like to be handled with that type of strong tenderness.
He was taller than six feet. Next to him I really did look petite. "I guess I can see why you would call me little one," I said, speaking to the phone bag on my wrist.
"Can I sit with you?" he asked, and my heart skipped a beat. "The bench," he said by way of explanation. "You were heading there before...?"
I bobbed my head in sudden understanding. "My aunt left without telling me where she was going. I don't know how long she'll be."
The guy smiled and ran a combing hand through the side of his lion's mane. "Can I wait with you until she returns?"
I sent a nervous glance down the empty corridor. Indy wasn't too keen about me interacting with strangers, though his offer smelled perfectly fine. Almost sweet, like warm apple pie. Still, she'd probably be peeved if she found me sitting with somebody she didn't know.
Should I care?
"You don't have to wait with me. I'm sure my aunt will be back from Tokyo as soon as she has had her fill of crushing buildings and throwing around subway cars."
"Well, that is all the more reason for me to stay," he said, his tone going mock-serious. "I want to make sure I'm not leaving you to be picked up by Lady Godzilla."
Ah, bad Godzilla jokes. That made me grin widely. He was handsome, and he could make a swift return when served up with a quip of light banter.
"Ok. You can join me," I said, and his grin of triumph caused his emotional signature to light up like the sun. I couldn't help but laugh at his unwarranted enthusiasm as I turned to pick up his backpack. Why was he so eager to sit with me?
I paused with the backpack dangling from an outstretched arm to watch him gather the contents of another bag. I stared at it, almost astonished by the familiar, half-folded material he was shoving in: white dress shirts edged in gray piping, gunmetal buttons, gray pants with an inch-wide cream pinstripe. A lightning bolt was embroidered on each sleeve, the symbol adopted from the school's campus being located on a hillside just above a power station. He was tucking the boy's version of the Petroleum Valley Academy uniform into his bag.
"You're a student at the Academy?"
"Yes." He took the backpack from me, his gaze falling to scrutinize the puddle I'd slid in as if he was wary of something. "I just moved here with family. Tomorrow's my first day."
"Really? It's my first day as well."
"Then we'll get to see more of each other." He inclined his head toward the bench, gesturing for me to lead the way over.
A growing warmth spread through me. I wasn't used to so much positive attention. I couldn't help but drink it in when I got a sip of it and found that I possessed an incredible thirst.
The nearest water fountain bubbled pleasantly as we settled next to each other, me and my phone bag, him and his backpack and uniforms. Somebody in the mall's main office had noticed the lack of musical ambiance and decided turn some on, filling the place with non-descript tunes that were barely fit for an elevator. My gaze slid to the side as I fidgeted with the plastic bag, sitting beside a guy—who I didn't know—who pretty much just saved my life. And good cheddar, the mall was still grossly deserted.
I looked down at my hands when his eyes returned to mine after doing a quick sweep of the mall, as if he was also highly aware of its all-too-barren state. In fact—I observed as he shifted closer to me—he was acting as if he was taking it upon himself to watch over me. Weird, but nice, I guess.
"Why do you think the mall's so...?"
"Empty?" He shrugged, shoulders straining against his shirt. "Since I'm new to the area, I don't know, but I'd venture to guess this place is considered an 'old' mall."
That would explain the out-of-date arcade.
"There is a newer complex down the road. I noticed the parking lot was packed when I rode past on my motorcycle."
More people at a new mall. That makes sense, considering the run-down state of this place with its roof leaks. Exhaling, I glanced sideways at my accidental companion. He rode a motorcycle? Committing this information to memory, my gaze fell to his jeans and then I looked away, my face growing hot. I squirmed.
"What is it?" he asked, noticing my mounting discomfort.
"I...got glitter all over you."
His jeans and shirt were sparkling in the sun. His attire was simple, even down to a pair of Nikes, which were white. Too white, as if this was the first time he was wearing them, and now everything was covered in glitter.
"You've got glitter all over you too." He pointed to my shirt.
"Yes, but it started out on me."
"I'll live." He shrugged. "A little shinier than I was before I bumped into you, but I'll survive. Glitter never hurt anyone."
True. I suppose glitter wasn't lethal, but I was still embarrassed.
With my hands folded in my lap, I continued to feel bothered, but about something else now. There was something about his voice. It sounded... off, somehow. Like he's not quite using his normal tone. And there was still no sign of Indy.
"You know, you don't have to do this," I said, thinking this must be a huge waste of his time. "I'm sure you have other things to get done before class tomorrow. I'll be fine. Really."
Shaking his head with a stubborn expression, he shifted his weight on the bench, making it creak. "I'm not going to leave you here by yourself when you're afraid to be left alone—Aurora."
My head jerked up, and my eyes widened when the sincerity in his gaze seized me by the heart. I hadn't given him my name.
"Who—are—you?" I struggled to get out. Though I couldn't for the life of me taste any ill-will coming from him, I didn't know what to make of it. There was such sincerity in those beautiful, odd- colored eyes. He meant me no harm. Actually, his intentions seemed to be quite the opposite. But still...
"Your name?" I demanded with a growing excitement I couldn't quite comprehend. My stomach flip-flopped with the beginnings of a thought. Could he be...?
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