Wicked and yours

Free time

    As her fourth period ended, Wickie left World English, and headed out to her locker, her stomach growling even after scarfing down the banana.

   She grabbed her lunch bag from her locker, and her book, heading out to the courtyard.

   It was a mostly sunny day for September, and the leaves were just barely falling off the tears. She placed her school sweater on the grass, sitting under the shade of the tree as she ate her cheese sandwich, sipping on her watermelon lemonade bottle.

    Something hit the top of her head, and she looked up, thinking it was an acorn.

    Wickie was mistaken.

    Heather Lowlier grinned down at her, straight blonde hair fanning either side of her face, her gray eyes cold as she stared down at her. Heather had been Wickie's tormentor ever since she heard the rumors circling around Wickie's parents. And true or not, Heather had made it her mission in life to make Wickie as miserable as possible.

    "Wow, that's quite a lunch you got there, Wicked. Did your daddy make it? Or did you get that good for nothing mother to finally do something motherly?" Heather asked, tossing a strand of her hair over her shoulder.

     Wickie stayed quiet, hating how even her nickname had been tainted because of Heather.

     "What? You're not gonna say anything, Wicked?" Heather stared at her, then snatched up the lemonade watermelon bottle from Wickie's grasp, dumping the rest of it on the grass before tossing it to the side.

      She laughed then, her posse of hyenas following after her, and Wickie sighed. She'd been tired of Heather, and hoped after all of these years, Heather would either find a new target to pick at or just leave Wickie alone.

     That didn't look like it was happening any time soon, and Wickie grabbed her trash, throwing it in one of the bins, as she tied her sweater around her waist. She decided to stretch her legs, grabbing her book as she walked a path around the courtyard.

     She was so into her book, that she'd been startled when her shoulder collided with someone else's. Looking up, she saw him, and her heart jumped up to her throat.

     Kaede Somins looked down at her, and in her bewilderment, she'd dropped her book to the ground. As she reached down to grab it, he had leaned down and grabbed it first, handing it back to her.

    "You dropped this, Ludwicka." he said, and Wickie could feel her heart race as she took the book back, their fingers brushing against one another.

     "Thanks." she said softly, as she took it, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. His cologne smelled wonderful as usual, and she tried her best to make sure she was breathing normal.

     "No problem." he told her, as she walked past her to go see his best friend, Dex.

      Wickie slowly turned to watch him leave, a faint blush on her face. She'd said little to nothing and still felt like she had made a fool of herself. 

      But that's okay.

      She was an overthinker and a planner, she knew exactly what she was going to do.

    When she got home, she locked herself in her room as her ever present mother was taking up space in the kitchen. Wickie tossed her bookbag on her bed as she pulled out her sketchbook and carefully pulled out the sketch she had made of Kaede.

     She pinned it on her wall, taking careful care not to ruin the other drawings, pictures, and newspaper clippings she had taped, or pinned to that wall.

     And yes, they were all of Kaede Somins.

     She ran her hand over the pictures of him, tracing his lips gently. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Wickie put on her favorite shade of lipstick, as she kissed the picture of his face, smiling to herself.

     She could hear her mother trudge up the stairs into her bedroom, slamming the door closed. Wickie breathed a sigh of relief as she got out of her room and headed to the extra bedroom. It'd been her father's office, but now it was just an extra room ever since "the incident."

    Wickie doesn't want to think about it. It's not what she came her for anyway.

     She goes through the old desk, ignoring the loud creaking noise it makes, and pulls out the bottom drawer, where a clunky old polaroid camera rests. She picks it up with both hands, and blows the dust off of it, wrinkling her nose as she's about to sneeze.

     She's not even sure that this will work. Wickie tests it out by taking a picture of the office, the flash going off loudly. She winces at the noise it makes when developing the photo, but pulls it out.

     Sure enough, there it is. She'd have to figure out how to mask the flash, and make the printing process more quieter.

     There's a bowl of old candy on the desk, and Wickie swipes out a lollipop from it. She doesn't know if it's still any good, but hey, it's her favorite color flavor.

     When she puts the candy in her mouth, she instantly spits it back out.

     Lesson learned.

    The next morning, Wickie wakes up an hour before her alarm, and puts on two sizes too big sweats. She puts on her usual running shoes, and a beanie that she yanks almost over her eyes. She places on a mask to cover her mouth.

    The only thing visible is her eyes, and even then, she keeps her gaze planted on the concrete sidewalk as she runs, her music drowning out the world, her footfalls echoing throughout the still sleeping neighborhood.

    She notices that she's not the only one running though, and her mouth mask hides the smile that she bores.

    It's Kaede. He's running in a red tank top, and baggy gym shorts with Sike running shoes. Wickie doesn't have much time to admire his athletic physique-she made a mental note to sport her sunglasses the next time she went jogging-but the rush she gets from just seeing him makes her run faster. He doesn't notice her, too busy focused on his run, and his own music, but she doesn't mind.

    She was always his secret admirer anyway.