“I have spoke with the tongues of angels. I have held the hand of a devil. It was warm in the night.” –I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For –U2

Izze, Payton, and I sit in science class after school hours. It’s dim and empty and, well, exciting.

We agreed to hang back and go over our chemistry work together, compare notes, but it’s come to no surprise that we’ve moved onto better and more entertaining things.

“I wish I had your life, Page. It’s so much better than mine,” Izze said with a dramatic sigh.

“Was that sarcasm?” I arch a brow.

We all knew that Izze was the princess of the group and the worst thing she had about her life was a mother that cared too much.

“Oh dear Page, you wouldn’t know sarcasm if it stood in front of your face,” she joked.

“Really?” I raise my eyebrows. “Then is this not sarcasm? Izze, are you aware that there is a fizzy drink company called Izze?”

“Yes I do and no that is not sarcasm. Sarcasm is this: Page, did you know books contain papers with your very name? You must be a celebrity. I am honored to have you as a friend.”

I laugh. “As you should be.”

“You guys are so immature,” Payton rolls her eyes and stuffs her homework into her backpack.

“Hey, we’re just being teenagers,” I shield.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t hurt to act like one every now and then,” Izze says.

We laugh and high-five each other across the table.

“Whatever. See you guys tomorrow.”

“Huh? Wai-what?” I’m surprised and sad. “You’re leaving already?”

“Yeah, we haven’t even had any tea or biscuits!” Izze puts on a British accent.

“Crumpets,” I correct.

“I guess those could wait for another time,” Payton plays along.

Izze and I wave goodbye as Pay leaves the room.

“Well,” Izze says as it goes suddenly silent, “I guess I better get home too.”

“Why? Don’t leave me here alone!” I beg.

“But I have family dinner tonight. I “can’t” be late,” Izze uses her fingers to make quote signs. “So mother says.”

“At four thirty?” I look at my phone.

“It’ll be five when we’re all seated and five-thirty when the prayer is finished.”

“I still think it’s too early to have dinner,” I murmur.

“Yeah, well, you don’t live with my family.” Then, softly, Izze adds, “I can give you a lift. Just tell your sister and we’ll go.”

“No, I told her I’d wait for her here.” I sigh. “Thanks though, Izze.”

My green ol’ buddy says ‘toddles’ and disappears.

I check my cell again. It’s been exactly three minutes since Izze left.

“What’s wrong with this phone?” I shake it in the air. “That can’t be right.”

She left way long ago!

“Hello?” A voice echoes into the room. I lean to my left to see a better view of the doorway.

“Damien,” I greet with a smile.

He looks to me and smiles, raking his ink hair back. I never really paid much attention before but Damien actually tends to do that a lot. The whole brushing his hair back with his hands.

“Oh, hey, Fare,” Damien cautiously slips into the room and keeps his distance, ensuring I won’t bite. Although we’re trying to become more friendly and familiar, there is still a bit of a hostility in the air.

“What are you doing in here?” He almost pulls up the blinds but stops when he remembers who’s in the room.

I shrug and stand. “My sister’s staying late again and I decided to wait around.”

“Lee left you to just sit here?” Damien asked doubtfully. About ten desks and two rows stood in between us. Me against the wall and him against the covered windows.

“No, I chose to stay. Actually, my friends stayed for a while.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice,” he nods. “So, uh, did you finish the assignment?”

“Assignment?”

“For Chemistry. You know, the one that involved the beaker.” Damien started snapping his fingers and raking his hair in anxiety. “I can’t remember what it’s called.”

“No, I know what you’re talking about.” I walk towards the front where all the glass beakers are, all full of different colored liquid, on the front counter.

“Here, I’ll find mine. The color’s very pretty. It’s kind of like a red but like a pink and a purple,” I search through the crammed glass containers. There’s probably about fifty squeezed onto this counter.

“Cool.” Damien helped me search for my “red but like a pink and a purple” colored beaker. “I haven’t finished mine yet. I think it’s orange.”

“That’s my favorite color,” I confess.

“Really? You look more like a black lover. Or red.”

“Why? Because I’m a vampire? Vampires don’t have to be totally into coffins or darkness you know,” I snap.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” he sighs. “My favorite color is green.”

“Your eyes are green too,” I say out loud, wanting to swallow the words.

“Err, yeah, guess so,” Damien replies.

He’s probably thinking, Obviously my eyes are green.

“Found it!” I say, excitedly reaching for my project. But I must’ve moved too fast, or leaned in too much, because I knocked down some beakers, spilling liquid.

“Oops.” I pull back, my right hand still holding my beaker.

“You’re right,” Damien says, suddenly by my side. “It is a pretty color.”

I let him hold it, but when I step to the side I slip on the spilt liquid and crash down, taking even more beakers with me.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

“Fare!” Damien sets my beaker gently down on the ground and kneels next to me. “Are you okay?”

“Ow…”

“Can you get up?” He’s worried and I feel his hands lightly touch me. “There’s a lot of broken glass.”

“I’m fine. But I guess a lot of kids are going to have to re-do their homework assignment,” I joke lamely, pulling myself up.

I cringe as I pull myself to my feet.

“You’re cut everywhere.” Damien observes.

“Yeah. It kind of hurts.” I make a face. When I look at Damien, I see a very strange expression on him. It looks pained, almost regretful.

“Did you fall down too?” I ask, but I see no blood. So I add, “I mean, are you okay?”

“You’re…bleeding,” Damien says so slowly, so softly. Before I know it, he’s across the room from me, again.

“D-Damien?” I hold my bleeding elbow. My left cheek feels kind of wet too, but that just might be someone’s colored liquid. “Do you think you can get me a rag? A wet one?”

“Uh…” He doesn’t move. His eyes are wide, and he’s never looked so strange, so helpless. So…weak.

“Seriously, Damien, are you okay?” I ask, stepping forward, hearing glass beneath me crack.

“Don’t move,” He barks harshly. So harsh I immediately freeze. Then, his green eyes wild with…I don’t know…just wild, melt a little and he steps towards me.

“Oh ha ha, Damien. Stop playing around,” I say. I want to move, but I can’t. “Look, you’re kind of scaring me, so can you just-”

“Don’t move.”

I shut my eyes and keep them down as tight and long as I can, trying to ignore that he’s getting closer.

And closer.

I hear the door slam.

My eyes fly open and he’s gone, leaving a wet rag on my desk.