I could feel everyone's eyes on me as the teacher set up her laptop in English first period. Not only was I that weird new kid whose parents decided it was a great idea to enrol me in a new school in my final two years, but I was also that weird new kid who missed the first week thanks to a series of appointments with my ophthalmologist down in Brisbane. Supposedly, it was the only time they could fit me in...
We had finally moved onto roll call, a concept very unfamiliar when you're the only student at home. It had been nine years since I was last in a classroom.
"Indigo," the teacher eventually called out, causing all the heads in the room to turn to me, seemingly enthused to have a name go with my face.
"Here," I mumbled, turning my head down to hide my eyes, wary as to whether people could tell.
"Welcome, by the way. I'm Miss Fitzgerald," she then said, shooting me a small smile that I only saw with a brief glance up at her continued attention. But, just as quickly, she moved on, giving me the reprieve I needed to hide my face once more as I turned towards my work, doodling flowers in the margin.
Though as Miss Fitzgerald finished the roll and got up to start her lesson, another student walked in.
I kept my eyes down, now wary after how my homeroom class went when others arrived late—the first thing people did when they entered was scan the room. I didn't want anyone to make eye contact with me in fear they'd ask. At a glance, I knew they couldn't tell. But when they stared too closely...
"And why are you late, Harley?" I heard the teacher demand.
"The bus was late," a deep, husky voice replied.
"You don't even take the bus," she said back.
"Well, I did today."
"Do you have a late slip?"
"The office ladies said to come straight here."
"I doubt that. You'll see me at lunch time."
"Oh, what? C'mon, Miss."
"Harley, this is year eleven. You need to take responsibility for your learning, and, considering you haven't done that yet, I will do it for you."
"But Miss—"
"Take your seat. We can discuss this in your own time."
I heard a disgruntled sigh from the front of the room, followed by footsteps coming closer.
As the figure neared, I tucked my chin further into my chest, letting my hair form a curtain around my face as I focussed even more intently on the stem of my flower. My heart thrummed at the possibility of having a desk buddy and anyone getting too close.
Please don't sit next to me, my mind begged. Please don't—
But thankfully he went on his way, pulling up a chair in the row behind me instead.
With my breaths easing and heartbeat slowing down, I began to raise my head again towards the board just as the teacher started her lesson overview.
"Hey, do you have a pen?" I heard the same low voice whisper to whomever was next to him.
"Sorry, this is my last one," another responded.
"How is it your last one?" the first boy whispered back. "It's only the second week of school."
"Like you can judge. You don't have any pens."
"I never have pens. But you normally—"
"Is there a problem back there?" Miss Fitzgerald asked, pausing her lesson as she shot daggers at the pair behind me.
I resisted the urge to turn around with the rest of the class to stare at them. Instead, I ducked my head once more, just in case anyone glanced at me... not that they could probably see anything from their distance.
"Just trying to borrow a pen from someone," the first boy said.
"Why are you never prepared?"
"Sheesh, Miss. You just keep shooting me down today."
"And you continue to disappoint me today, Harley."
"Fuck sake," I heard him curse under his breath. "Well, do you have a pen I can borrow?" he said a little louder.
"You know I don't bring spare equipment to senior classes. You should be prepared. Borrow from someone else, and, again, we will talk about your lack of responsibility in your own time. For now, stop interrupting my class or else I will send you out of it."
"Yes, Miss," he huffed back.
A few moments ticked on as Miss Fitzgerald resumed to talk about Wide Sargasso Sea before the boy behind me spoke again. But this time...
"Hey, you... new girl," I heard him whisper-shout my way.
My heart thudded in my chest as I tried to keep my face forward, not wanting to look at him, not wanting him to see... Surely he'd notice with how close he was.
"Psst, new girl," he said a little louder.
And when I still didn't respond...
A small item hit the back of my head, causing me to instinctively turn around to face him with a scowl on my face. "What—" I started to demand, but the words suddenly got caught in my throat.
His mouth began to move, noise filling the space between us, a charming smile taking hold of his face, but I couldn't hear a thing. All that was noticeable to me right then was the pounding of my heart, the heat spreading to my cheeks, and the dropping of my jaw as I took him in.
The world around was as it usually was: black, white, and various shades of grey in between.
But he was none of them.
Sure, his hair was dark, his skin was light, but the rest of him... well, it was screamingly saturated. Hues I didn't know how to label, I was sure this was what colour was.
The smile slowly dropped from his face as his mouth stopped moving, and I began to feel my vision clouding as my heart raced even faster.
What is going on?
Why does he look like this?
Why—
"Dude, I think the new girl has a mega crush on you. She's speechless in your presence," his friend beside him snickered, some sound coming back to my ears as I tried to focus on my breaths.
The colourful boy's eyes—iridescent and shining—continued to stare at me quizzically, gaze narrowing. And, once the oxygen finally returned to my brain, he broke the silence to say, "So... do you have one?"
"H-have what?" I managed to choke out.
"A spare pen? That I can borrow?"
I whipped around in my seat and unzipped my pencil case, yanking out the first pen I could find.
Turning back, I placed it on the table in front of him before righting myself towards the board again, too scared to look at him.
"Thanks," he whispered my way, but I didn't acknowledge him.
Shoulders slumping forward, I kept my body forward and head low for the rest of the lesson as I listened to the teacher drone on about the novel before we began to privately read.
•❃°•°❀°•°❃•
The session came to an end and Miss Fitzgerald directed us to pack up. I shoved all my belongings back into my pencil case and closed my book, quick to jump to my feet.
"Hey, new girl," the boy behind me said, but once again, I pretended he wasn't speaking to me.
Instead, I focused my attention on slipping out my sunglasses from their case that I had brought in amongst my belongings.
He tried once more to get my attention, voice louder this time as he edged closer.
But, to my luck, Miss Fitzgerald said, "Enjoy your next session. You're all dismissed."
And I took off.
Ignoring his calls after me, I forced my sunglasses onto my face just before I exited the classroom, not even pausing to put my things away as I yanked my bag off the portrack.
At once, I began walking away from the room, not even sure where I was heading or where my next class was, only knowing I couldn't talk to him again... I couldn't look at him again.
Because what if he was still in colour?
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