Paper Planes: Chapter Five
Tris Prior has toned legs.
That's the first thought that comes to mind as she glides towards him on a pink bicycle Monday morning.
Her head is turned to look at her friends as they skateboard around her, her mouth opened in a laugh, teeth showing. He grips the strap of his black backpack and pulls it higher on his shoulder as he walks away from his car, trying to focus on what Zeke is saying to him, but her bare legs are long and tan and seem to go on forever until they disappear under a pair of loose, gray shorts.
He makes the mistake of looking away and tracing the cracks in the parking lot, but he can still hear the unmistakable loud laugh and the sound of skateboard wheels crashing against pavement. The tinkering sound of a bike's bell rings and her voice chatters in the background of his thoughts like static.
The next time he looks up, distracted, he watches her eye's widen as her bike speeds towards him and all he can notice is how defined her leg muscles look up close.
The front tire of her pink bicycle skids along the parking lot and crashes into his shin, knocks him to the hard ground, and sends the little blonde girl flipping over the handlebars.
Every noise in the high school parking lot goes silent as Tris lands on top of Tobias and the bike crashes to the ground. The air leaves his lungs- because of the blonde laying on him or because 90 pounds was just forcibly thrown on his stomach, he doesn't know. Probably a mixture of both.
After a few moments, she lifts her head from his chest and gives him an unreadable look, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. He stops breathing, which isn't the best idea since he's already out of breath. She laughs, sits up slowly- straddling his waist for the smallest number of seconds but still- and gets to her feet. A small hand is held out to him.
Her fingers are covered in an array of different rings and her hand is cold but firm. The bones of her fingers and wrist poke through her skin, like they're trying to tear through and see the sunlight. He holds her hand for longer than appropriate after he's on his feet and he quickly plays it off by wiping the dirt off his jeans, face turning a shade of pink.
She doesn't say anything, so he clears his throat and avoids her cloudy eyes. "Uh, are you- are you okay?"
"Peachy-keen." She grins without missing a beat and he blinks in surprise. He watches her pick up her fallen bike and swing her leg over the seat. Tris gives him a subtle wink and rides away, towards her friends on the other side of the parking lot, standing in the only patch of grass, skateboards strewn over the green and clutched in hands. Their faces are a mixture of laughter and mild concern, like paint being swirled together. Mostly laughter, though. Obviously.
He watches her toned legs work the pedals, hips swinging, as she rides into the new day's sunshine.
She talks with her hands.
If she has things in her hands, she gestures with them, too.
Tobias watches her from the corner of the art room, sun streaming through the large windows and shining into his eyes. She holds the same gray folder and the same stack of books, another slip of paper in between her thumb and index finger.
For a moment, he turns his head towards her- can he pretend it's because of that damn sunshine basically blinding him prematurely? No, probably not-and she automatically catches his gaze and walks over to him and his lonely table.
He doesn't understand how he got here. After a week of knowing of her existence, he finds her everywhere. He looks for the flip of her messy, blonde ponytail disappearing down a hallway, the sun glinting off her little hoop earrings, listening for her loud laugh as he drifts down the corridor, passing random classrooms.
He doesn't understand how someone can be so addictive.
When Tobias was forced to enroll in Health class his freshman year of high school, he learned about addiction. Sure, most of the time he was slowly drifting to sleep while leaning against the palm of his hand, but some information sticks with you and bleeds into your memory, reappearing when you least expect it. His teacher told the class that it's easy to become addicted- you can become addicted to heroin after only one use, addicted to nicotine after one puff of the cigarette- and there are a lot of things to become addicted to.
Tobias is finally starting to realize the double-meaning.
He feels a blast of anticipation as she drops her pile of books and folder on the table and pulls out the gray, Victorian painting. He can't stop his mouth. "Is that your house?" Idiot.
One side of her mouth lifts in amusement. He curses himself. Idiot.
Her eyes look him up and down. "Yes..."
"It's a beautiful painting." Stop talking!
"I'd hope so, I've been working on it for almost a year now."
His eyes basically pop out of his skull. "A year?" He couldn't imagine being invested in something for that long. Then again, he had a girlfriend for longer than that. Then again, look at how well that turned out...
"A lot of detail goes into a piece like this." She tells him, a humorous glint brightening up her eyes like a lightning bolt streaking across stormy skies. "look closer at the house. Look closer at the picture." She tells him, running the tip of her index finger lightly down the sides of the house.
He leans in closer and begins to see the different shades of colors separately and the delicate detail of architecture he missed with the naked eye.
Look closer at the picture. He takes in painting and looks deeper, past everything in front of him, at the meaning hidden within it. He see Tris, but smaller- if that's even possible. She plays in the front yard, rides her bicycle in the long driveway. He imagines her splashing around in rain puddles right outside her red front door, throwing water balloons during the summer, and building snowmen in the winter.
His mind is thrust out of what he imagines her childhood was like as she speaks again. "It's beautiful, the way art works." She says to him quietly, almost shyly. "You can paint a picture of a house and that's what all the mundane people of the world will see. A house. But, some others will see something more. They'll see the meaning of the house, what lies within it. Those are the people you need to surround yourself with."
He's speechless and he can't focus and try to find something to say as the chatter of the other students dull to lifeless whispers.
Amazing.
He wants to tell her she's amazing. Wants to tell her that even though it's only been a week, it feels like forever, and how he can't believe he hasn't noticed her until now. Years wasted when he could've gotten to know her, figure out her favorite color and food and movie.
You're amazing.
"Sorry, I'm usually not like this with new people." She tells him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, fibers getting caught in the hoops. He thinks he's imagining the light blush dusting across her cheeks.
It's like he's seeing a new side of her, except he hardly knows any old sides. Is this her? The deep, shy girl that probably stares wistfully up at the stars in her free time? Or is she the girl with a sly grin and a daring glint to her eyes?
His head is spinning in every direction, but he knows one thing for sure-
You're amazing. What's your favorite color?
He wants to know her favorite color and every other favorite after that.
A/N: Hi.
Okay, I know it's not much after being gone for so long, but I've been trying to get some original writings done and this story WILL NOT LEAVE ME.
So, I'm easing into this. A couple weeks until school starts (ew) and I'm gonna see what I can do. This story is not going to drag on like I planned it to, it'll be around 10 chapters. Probably.
Hopefully this will tide you over until I can find some control with this story. Sorry it's not 2,000+ words like it usually is. EASE. PATIENCE.
After not writing for this plot in so long I'm pretty happy about this chapter.
I love you all.
-Scorpiius