out of nowhere, like an enormous black cloud,” he continued,
his suspicious eyes scanning the sky as he searched for them.
“Murder? Crows?” I
repeated him, still not sure what had happened. “Oh.”
He was directly over me.
I looked up to see him reaching one gloved hand down to me. I paused before
letting him pull me up, trying not to think too much about the way the tights
highlighted every muscle in his legs.
“I must have scared
them,” I said, dusting off my legs and letting my fingers probe the sensitive
spot where I’d landed on the curb. I winced. I was going to get a big bruise,
for sure.
“You were in that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. In the waning light the blue of them
seemed to fade into a steely gray.
I shrugged. “I guess.
No big deal.” I tried to be nonchalant about it. I didn’t want him to know
how freaked out I’d been. I stepped forward, gingerly. “Though it was kind of
weird. I didn’t hear anything at all and then, boom, they were everywhere.”
He looked up at the sky,
speculating.
“I’m walking you home,”
he said, his chin set.
“Suit yourself,” I harrumphed,
pretending not to care, but annoyed at him for his unexplained about-face. We
set out, him slowing his pace to match me as I hobbled along. We walked in
silence, my resentment hanging around us like heavy air of a Georgia summer.
“What are you even doing
here?” I asked when I couldn’t take the silence any longer, my voice accusing.
“This isn’t even close to your house. And I thought you had things to do.”
He didn’t rise to the
bait, his eyes steadfastly focused on the road ahead. “I took care of them for
now.” There was a long pause. “And I needed a run to clear my head. I didn’t
plan to find you.”
“Well, don’t put yourself
out, then.” His words stung. The retort flew out of my mouth before I had
time to think.
He sighed as we trudged
up the last hill, the silence resettling uncomfortably around us. At the top
of my cul de sac, he pulled up short. The sun had fully set, now, and under
the light shed by the corner street lamp his blonde hair seemed to shine with a
halo.
He took a step, reaching
out as if to touch me, but then dropped his hand as if he thought better of it.
“It must be hard running
with all that hair in your face,” he said softly. I refused to answer him, but
couldn’t stop my hands from sneaking up to wrap my hair safely round my neck.
He stood there awkwardly,
waiting for me for what seemed like forever. Finally, he sighed.
“I guess I’ll see you
around,” he said, turning away.
I stood in the little
puddle of light, watching him run away until he was just a little speck of
white, gliding away in the dark. As I turned toward my house, I noticed
something under my shoe.
A feather. It shone dark
as coal under the glow of the street light.
I picked it up, surprised
I hadn’t it noticed it before, stuck to my shoe. I twirled it around in my
fingers. It spanned the length of my hand and was stiffer than I imagined a
feather should be. And the odor it gave off was odd – like sulfur, or the
smell of electricity building up before a storm.
You shouldn’t touch
it. It’s not clean.
Shrugging at the nagging
voice, I threw the feather into the gutter and went in to nurse my wounds along
with my hurt pride.
Chapter 3 – Peaks and Valleys
Michael didn’t show up
for school on Monday. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday. By the time Thursday rolled
around, I was in a seriously bad mood and more than a little hurt. He’d
disappeared without even telling me. I had a weird case of road rash around my
wrist – apparently from my fall during the bird swarm -- that wouldn’t seem to
heal. Everywhere I turned, that boy, Lucas, seemed to be, leering at me with a
crazy look in his eyes. And meanwhile, my afternoons had turned into sheer
torture as Bus Boy had decided to single me
his suspicious eyes scanning the sky as he searched for them.
“Murder? Crows?” I
repeated him, still not sure what had happened. “Oh.”
He was directly over me.
I looked up to see him reaching one gloved hand down to me. I paused before
letting him pull me up, trying not to think too much about the way the tights
highlighted every muscle in his legs.
“I must have scared
them,” I said, dusting off my legs and letting my fingers probe the sensitive
spot where I’d landed on the curb. I winced. I was going to get a big bruise,
for sure.
“You were in that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. In the waning light the blue of them
seemed to fade into a steely gray.
I shrugged. “I guess.
No big deal.” I tried to be nonchalant about it. I didn’t want him to know
how freaked out I’d been. I stepped forward, gingerly. “Though it was kind of
weird. I didn’t hear anything at all and then, boom, they were everywhere.”
He looked up at the sky,
speculating.
“I’m walking you home,”
he said, his chin set.
“Suit yourself,” I harrumphed,
pretending not to care, but annoyed at him for his unexplained about-face. We
set out, him slowing his pace to match me as I hobbled along. We walked in
silence, my resentment hanging around us like heavy air of a Georgia summer.
“What are you even doing
here?” I asked when I couldn’t take the silence any longer, my voice accusing.
“This isn’t even close to your house. And I thought you had things to do.”
He didn’t rise to the
bait, his eyes steadfastly focused on the road ahead. “I took care of them for
now.” There was a long pause. “And I needed a run to clear my head. I didn’t
plan to find you.”
“Well, don’t put yourself
out, then.” His words stung. The retort flew out of my mouth before I had
time to think.
He sighed as we trudged
up the last hill, the silence resettling uncomfortably around us. At the top
of my cul de sac, he pulled up short. The sun had fully set, now, and under
the light shed by the corner street lamp his blonde hair seemed to shine with a
halo.
He took a step, reaching
out as if to touch me, but then dropped his hand as if he thought better of it.
“It must be hard running
with all that hair in your face,” he said softly. I refused to answer him, but
couldn’t stop my hands from sneaking up to wrap my hair safely round my neck.
He stood there awkwardly,
waiting for me for what seemed like forever. Finally, he sighed.
“I guess I’ll see you
around,” he said, turning away.
I stood in the little
puddle of light, watching him run away until he was just a little speck of
white, gliding away in the dark. As I turned toward my house, I noticed
something under my shoe.
A feather. It shone dark
as coal under the glow of the street light.
I picked it up, surprised
I hadn’t it noticed it before, stuck to my shoe. I twirled it around in my
fingers. It spanned the length of my hand and was stiffer than I imagined a
feather should be. And the odor it gave off was odd – like sulfur, or the
smell of electricity building up before a storm.
You shouldn’t touch
it. It’s not clean.
Shrugging at the nagging
voice, I threw the feather into the gutter and went in to nurse my wounds along
with my hurt pride.
Chapter 3 – Peaks and Valleys
Michael didn’t show up
for school on Monday. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday. By the time Thursday rolled
around, I was in a seriously bad mood and more than a little hurt. He’d
disappeared without even telling me. I had a weird case of road rash around my
wrist – apparently from my fall during the bird swarm -- that wouldn’t seem to
heal. Everywhere I turned, that boy, Lucas, seemed to be, leering at me with a
crazy look in his eyes. And meanwhile, my afternoons had turned into sheer
torture as Bus Boy had decided to single me
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