The Wallflower

A Fleeting Moment

Sang

Lunch passed without discourse, probably because I spent the majority of it cooped up in one of the girls' bathrooms until the bell rang. I tried looking for Karen again, but I couldn't find her anywhere. Maybe she hadn't even come to school today?

My heart sank. That wouldn't be out of the ordinary, but still, it felt strange not to have her here. Not having classes together didn't help things, either.

I sighed as I sat in study hall. My doodles became less and less recognizable thanks to the turmoil in my head. I couldn't seem to concentrate. Why was I worrying over something I had no control over? With a frustrated huff, I set my mechanical pencil down and closed my notebook.

My table was mostly empty save for the hunched form of Terry, a junior, who had his hoodie up over his head and was fast asleep. I suspected he might sleep all day, because he practically reeked like marijuana. I was surprised the reigning teacher, Mrs. French, didn't say anything. She seemed too bothered with making sure the pack of giggling girls stayed quiet. It suited me just fine, though, so I let Terry be until the bell rang overhead.

"All right! Gather your stuff and head to your next class. No loitering or it'll be detention for you lot!" Mrs. French shouted above the loud chatter that erupted.

Terry got up and left without a backwards glance as I quietly made my way to my next class.

Heading to art, however, was a journey all on its own. I braved the crowded hallways with much reluctance and wished for a moment that Silas was here to help me through again. But he wasn't, and I supposed that was my fault. I wasn't sure how Silas would forgive me now for fleeing from him for the third time, never mind North. Friends didn't do that to each other. But, then, were we friends at all? I didn't know.

I shoved the thought away for another time and breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted the stairs that would lead me to my next class. It was less crowded here and I was happy to leave the rambunctious hallways behind me.

There were already people trickling in when I got there. And I tried to stop the way my body went into a panic when I saw Gabriel sitting at the far end of the classroom. Here, the tables were raised and set up with stools much like my Home Economics class had been. Except the tables were covered in endless amounts of dried paint and pencil markings from years of overuse.

Mr. Jones was sat at his desk, his wild mane of red hair pulled into a rather neat braid down his back. As I entered, he turned to look at me and smiled. He looked the same as I last saw him two months ago: Hawaiian print shirt, faded jeans, and flip flops that he sometimes wore with socks.

I gulped, gripping the straps of my bag like it was my lifeline. While I felt far more comfortable in this class than I did my other classes, seeing Gabriel here surprised me. How did he get into an advanced art class?

"Ah, Sang. Go ahead and sit anywhere, no seating arrangement this year," Mr. Jones told me with a nod of his head before he turned to the mess that was his desk.

I breathed a sigh of relief but my gaze was caught by Gabriel. He raised an eyebrow at me as the corners of his lips turned up just the slightest. He didn't wave or indicate that he knew me, but I could feel his concentrated stare on me as I made a beeline for the opposite end of the classroom. It would be as far away as I could get from his table. Maybe making eye contact with him hadn't been the smartest idea. I winced internally, as I laid my bag down.

Students filed in one by one but I noticed there weren't a lot of people in this class in the first place. Part of me felt relieved once again, but I also knew that it was only the first day of school and people were bound to transfer classes once school really got going. I sat quietly and tried to ignore Gabriel, but that was easier said than done.