Awkward

~PILOT /PART 1/~

JANUARY.

The train ripped past her, turning the pages of her book. Cradling the book in her arm, she dusted off her skirt.

That was too close.

Shuffling towards the wall of trees, she kept walking, then stopped.

Where — is my bookmark?

For a moment, losing her bookmark was all-consuming. Then that moment passed; she kept walking.

I don't need the train.

The tracks to her right glistened in the sun. She dared to tread on the tracks, for the fun of it, and rays raced down the burnished steel, into the horizon. She slipped a little, it had rained earlier. But regaining balance, she stepped right into the middle. And walked, book in hand.

'She was a hopelessly cold mystery.'

The line made her smile.

Cliché.

Closing the book, she spread her arms, lifting her sneakers over the shallow puddles between each steel bar crossing the track. Thin, translucent clouds floated towards the city square in the horizon, far from the school, slowly painting the rest of the world orange.
Suddenly, a disturbance in the trees ahead frustrated her attention.

Coal-black trousers and a golden arm. A deep red shirt and black school shoes.

Arms down - she felt it natural to hide, even if it was obviously another student. Slowing down, she covered her face with a random page of her book, peeking over the top just enough to see.

Some bald-looking boy emerged from the brush on the wall of trees and jogged away, only barely noticing her. A moment's curiosity pricked at her lung as the figure shrunk ahead, but turning the page to where her bookmark was, she shrugged it off.

I have no idea who that is.

~/ ROMAN TURNER /~

I finally stop running because, well, I think I'm far enough, and I'm quite tired.

She can't see me — the one with a book. I look down the tracks just to make sure. I can't see her for sure.

I think that was even somebody in my class, but I'm out of sight so that means I can walk again. I loosen the straps of my backpack and... walk again.

Phew.

This is probably a warning, next time it could be a teacher that sees me come out of there, and teachers over here are not friendly. That's what makes me feel like Redwood isn't exactly 'my kind' of school. Another instance was how I came last September, right before the Year 10 exams and I didn't make anyone proud, obviously. On parent-teacher consultation, one of my teachers told my mum that the problem was my hair.

Now I'm bald. And I was very, very angry at first but now I don't know. Now I think I look good bald. Like a monk... with air powers.

'The train belongs to the school and it stays within the school. Its whole purpose is to connect the sports complex to the main area of the school. The distance isn't really far enough to need a train, but I get it. People get tired. I'm tired. If I'm at the sports complex, I'm playing football and nothing else. But some days, even though I'm exhausted, I don't take the train back because if I walk, I can see this secret spot that I am certain only I know about. It's basically just a courtyard but it's a happy place. I also leave my stuff there sometimes because nobody knows-