Trying to be on time for class - for once - was my first blessing. It was a rare occassion that I wasn't late for fourth-hour Chemistry. That was just the way I liked it. Chem was always so boring, mostly because of the lack of explosions. So, usually, I waltzed in at just the right time; five minutes before class ended. But this particular day, my grade- no, my very life - depended on my on-time arrival to Mrs. Trent's classroom.
Anyway, back to my blessing. Determined to save my skin, I ran as fast as I could without alarming anyone when the bell rang. It took approximately six minutes to get from Trig to the Chem lab, and I'd be damned if I missed even one millisecond of the prison some called schooling
The hallways passed in a blur, and the only time I took was to stop at my girlfriend's locker for a moment to see if she'd be there. Of course, she wasn't. A momentary disappointment. I would have loved to stroke her silky golden curls and look into her sky blue eyes one last time before I condemned myself. Oh, well.
I took off sprinting again and hit the stairwell door hard. It swung open way too fast and I almost lost my balance, which would have sent me sprawling down six flights of stairs. Luckily, I have lightning-fast reflexes and caught myself before I could do any damage. Internal endzone dance, back to running.
I took the steps two at a time with no intention of stopping until I saw Old Lady Trent in front of her classroom, cursing the world with her safely goggles on top of her head. And if not cursing the world, most definitely cursing me.
I was vaguely aware of a slow, thunking sound somewhere below me. Chances were that it was nothing and I was simply hearing my heartbeat, which was hilariously sparse and spread out. So, I continued down at my insane pace. That was my second blessing.
My third was the fact that I half-wittedly plowed into someone. She fell, screaming, and hit the ground with a sick thud. Caught completely off guard by the knowledge of my hurting someone and the overpowering scent of said someone's blood, so did I. Me, Tristan Edwards, the guy who hadn't tripped over anything in forty-seven years, fell down the stairs. I know, I was astonished, too.
I was totally fine, except for the fact that I landed on my knees like a cat. On top of the girl. Hey, it was better than cracking my head on the linoleum like she did, right? I could still hear her heartbeat, so I knew she wasn't dead, but that didn't stop her from being hurt.
"Ugh," I muttered. "Hey, are you okay? I mean, you landed pretty rough there, and-"
She'd opened her eyes to glare at me in pure and undisguised fury. Her eyes were the most amazing thing I'd ever seen in my entire existence. Even in their current state of unrepressed rage, they were gorgeous and glittering, the brightest shade of gray I'd ever layed eyes on.
"Wow . . ." I murmured in a pitch so low that I was sure she couldn't hear me.
They were so clear, like gray Swarvoski crystal beads. Like pure Sterling Silver, it was -
No.
Not silver.
Anything but silver.
I shut my eyes tightly, took a deep breath, and opened. Terror alleviated, comfort spilling in. They were definitely only gray.
Deep, shaky sigh of relief, and we're good. She wasn't one of us, thank God. I wouldn't have to destroy her. Her eyes wouldn't have to stare at me, blank and unseeing, as her body slowly melted away. Like I'd had to do with that grotesque monster who'd made me what I was. What I still am.
"I don't know who you think you are," she seethed, "But how do you get off plowing right into somebody in the middle of a staircase with a 'hey, are you okay'?!"
She was obviously spunky. I liked it. Curious, I dragged my eyes from hers to the spray of long raven hair around her head, to the delicate curve of her bright lips, to the rose-colored blush in her cheeks. I breathed in her intoxicating scent of roses and spice. I forgot who, where, when I was.
She was beautiful. She was . . . Everything. It hit me like a tractor-trailer. Like a nice, hard, slap in the face. She was the One. She was my One, my Only, forever and ever as long as we both should live. There could be no one else out there for me but her. Whoever she was. That could protentially be a problem, not knowing her name.
"Who are you," I blurted out stupidly.
She glanced at me warily and said,"I'm Katy Henderson, who the hell are you?"
Katy. Such a pretty name. It suited her. I closed my eyes to think of a witty and romantic comeback, but when I did, something extraordinary happened. I knew everything about her. With every beat of her heart, I knew another fact about her life.
For example,her full name was Katrina Breanne; she lived practically alone because her parents were party animals and were never home; she was in love with someone named Carter Langston. This last fact depressed me slightly, but I chose to ignore it. I would wait for her to be over him if it took forever.
I opened my mouth to answer her question, but my mind went completely blank. I had no clue what to tell her. I couldn't even remember my name straight. So this is what it feels like to be in love, I thought, and chuckled below her hearing level again. Suddenly the answer popped into my head.
"Tristan," I said finally, "Tristan Edwards. I don't have a cute nickname like you, so whatever you think up is welcome."
I smiled at my cleverness, only to realize too late that she'd never actually told me her full name. I thought I was in the clear, though, when she didn't pick up on it.
"That's all well and good, but could you please get off me?" she pouted.
I forgot myself for a moment and stood straight up, pulling her up with me. Another oh-so-obvious slip that she didn't catch. Or so I thought . . .
"How did you know that Katy wasn't my real name?"
If I could have, I would've blanched. Searching desperately for an answer, I relied on my raw wit.
"In my experience, no girl's real name is Katy," I said slowly, "It's always like, Katherine or something. Is that your name?"
Internally, I patted myself on the back and discreetly gauged her reaction. She was staring up at me, lips slightly parted. In a daze, it looked like.
Shaking herself out of it, she stated softly, "It's Katrina."
I smiled outwardly this time.
"Katrina," I repeated. "Such a pretty name. It suits you."
I poured as much emotion as I could into those words, because I meant them. She was pretty. More than pretty, she was bewitchingly gorgeous. Self-consciously, she reached up to run her fingers through her hair - and froze. Her mouth dropped open, and a little squeak came out of her throat. She was in pain.
"Katy, are you okay?" I demanded.
She stared into my eyes blankly.
"Katy," I said louder.
Her eyes widened, and then she started laughing. She just laughed and laughed hysterically, like a lunatic. I could almost feel her pain, her bewilderment at all of this. My chest ached for her. It hurt even worse when the scent of her blood got stronger.
"Katy, don't close your eyes," I practically shouted, "Stay with me Katy."
She reached up and touched the back of her head. My heart started pounding. Her fingers were covered in fresh blood. It's a good thing I fed yesterday . . . . I sighed in my head. Nonetheless, I was terrified for her. I'd never been that scared in all of my sixty-three years on this earth. I reached out for her.
"I don't feel so hot," she moaned quietly.
Her eyes were starting to dim. If she didn't get help fast, she was going to die.
"Oh, God, not her, not now," I cried.
And then I did something really, really stupid.
I picked her up and started flying. Not really flying, but running so fast that a normal human wouldn't be able to see me. In which direction you ask? The hospital. She needed medical attention ASAP, and by God, I was going to get it for her. Somewhere along the way she moaned something about calling 911, but I didn't bother to answer her. She probably couldn't hear me anyway.
When we finally got there, I called out to anyone who would listen, "Please! Help us! She needs attention, or she'll bleed out!"
Doctors swarmed us and put her onto a stretcher. They were yelling codes and ordering for supplies to be brought. I couldn't bear it. I ran past them all, but not without leaning down to kiss Katy on the cheek and whisper, "Everything will be all right," before I left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, I'm not sure about this one . . . Do you guys think I could make it better? Does it make sense? Is it funny and sweet enough? Comments are welcome, thank you! =)
~~Kyuu-chan
