IIIIIII Scarlet IIIIIIII
It's almost been half a semester at Alfea, and nothing's gone wrong yet, which must be bad. Nothing in my life has ever gone right before, so why hope for it now? It'll probably fall apart soon, I'm sure. It's the only reason I've done what I've done. Either way, I'll be forced back home under lock and key and brainwashed to live the life my parents intended for me.
But enough of that. It's finally the weekend, and even though I barely passed my exam, I can at least shop my stress away. Or buy myself a pizza. Both sound good.
I hop off the bus, pop my earbuds in, and decide to cut through the park to the nearest pizza joint. The City of Magix isn't that difficult to get around once you've been a couple of times. And once you know where the popular places are, you know exactly where to avoid.
Is it bad I don't like most of my classmates- that I avoid them on purpose?
It's nothing personal, of course. We just don't have a lot in common, or maybe I'm the only one with a messed up family life? It just feels like people aren't genuine, and I have little time for surface-level conversation. Of course, when rumors constantly spread about you, there's not much you can do when it comes to making friends. Just making one friend was hard enough for me.
I hum along to the music as I step on to the main path in the park. It's not that crowded, but I'm sure most people would be getting ready to hit the nightclubs soon. The Sun's just now starting to set.
Trees curve like an archway over the path, and the gravel crunches under my sneakers. Even with the music, I can still hear the birds chirping behind the leaves. I turn the music up. The next song comes on, and I make a face as a violin starts to play softly in a minor key. It was one of those songs from my preteens, back when I was dramatically depressed. I glance down at my MMP3 (Magix Music Player 3) and press down on skip. Annnnddd another emo song come on. What was I thinking when I made this playlist?
Skip.
I glance back up to the path. Some dude is running and checking his watch at the same time- and he's coming straight at me. Surely he'll move.
He looks up, and I realize it's too late. He tries to stop, and I try to get out of the way, but it doesn't work. Pain bursts in my chest and head as I hit the ground at the force of fully grown man. Gravel slides and crunches with my body. For a moment, I lay there, breathless, in pain, and tangled up with a man twice my size.
Finally, I open my eyes, and I blink as the world spins. The birds have all taken off out of the trees, and the sound of their little wings flapping reverberate in my head.
"Oh!" The guy says, and suddenly I can breathe again. "Are you okay?"
"...Been better." I manage to say. Suddenly my head's off the ground, and when I open my eyes I see hazel eyes, straight nose, and dark hair that hangs over his forehead. He's not bad looking, I'll give him that. Or maybe I hit my head too hard.
And then his eyes widen down at me, and there's a moment of stillness. Crap, is he cradling me? Awkward.
"Like gold…" he mutters.
A memory bursts behind my visions. "Gold makes monsters out of us, darling," he smiles and meets my gaze. "And I have no doubt your eyes will do the same."
I roll out of his grasp and hit the dirt again. My palms press into the gravel as I push myself up. This isn't good. The illusion wore off.
"Whoa, easy there. I hit you pretty hard."
"You really did," I reply as I press my hand to the back of my head. Some gravel is still stuck, and I hastily comb it out with my fingers. "Wait, where's my MMP3?"
"Um...Is this it? And I think this is your phone." He holds them both up with a wince. The fading sunlight dances off of the cracked screen of my MMP3, and I sigh.
He hands them to me and apologizes. I use a touch of my magic to fix it. The screen crunches like broken glass and suddenly it looks as good as new. I slide my phone into my back pocket.
"Oh, are you a fairy?" He helps me stand. "I go to Red Fountain."
"So you're a specialist." I finally inspect him. He's at least a foot taller than me- no wonder he didn't see me. His smile is crooked. He definitely has the body of a specialist- all lean muscle and bulging biceps. And he doesn't skip leg day like most of his schoolmates. Am I really checking him out right now? I really must have hit my head too hard.
"Hey, I'm sorry again for running into you," he says. "Are you sure you're alright? No concussion or anything? How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Three? Anyway, we both weren't watching where we were going," I reply as I dust off the sides of my jeans. Stinging pain resonates on my back and shoulders, and I bite back a hiss.
He's just a breath away from me, and he reaches up and brushes dirt off my shoulder. "You do know you're bleeding, right? In multiple spots? That's totally my fault."
"It's fine," I struggle to say. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and avoid eye contact. I can feel his body heat, and he smells like outdoors and sweat.
"Here, at least let me buy you bandages," he says as he takes a step back. "There's a pharmacy a few blocks away. I go there all the time to stock up on bandages for combat training."
I pause and look to where he's pointing. It's in the same direction of Peluda's Pizza. It's a few streets off of the main strip, so it shouldn't be as crowded. Less people would see me. But I also don't want to get close to people, and this guy has already seen my real eye color.
"You're making it really hard to ease my conscious," he half-jokes. There's a pause, and he stares at me, coughs, and looks away. "Have you eaten yet? I can buy you dinner too."
I look up at him. His eyes are sincere as they flicker back to me. It's weird to have someone look at me without suspicion, and I don't know what to make of it. He seems nervous, and his face is red. He must have been running for awhile.
"You really don't trust me, do you," he says as he scratches his forehead. "Look, this is all my fault. Please let me make this up to you- on my honor as a specialist."
Sighing, I reply, "Fine. But if you're treating me to dinner, it'd better be pizza."
He shoves his hands into his hoodie and smiles. "I can deal with that. My name's Kal, by the way. What's yours?"
His smile is crooked, and he has a dimple on one cheek. It's incredibly cute, and I can't help but smile back as I reply, "Scarlet."