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His tone was odd, hesitant but urgent. I didn’t know what to make of it, much less the actual words. This boy was a mystery to me; his actions were strange in everything he did. I reluctantly broke the silence, hoping that the moment was passed.

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what you mean by that, will you?” my voice came out as barely more than a whisper, but he was so close that I knew he could hear.

Azure sighed with an emotion that I couldn’t quite read, responding “No, I cannot tell you what I meant when I said that I know you. It is more complicated than I could explain, but I hope that you, dear, will understand with time.”

I shook my head with as much vigor as I could, constricted as I was, “Time? I don’t get it, Azure. I’m supposed to just let you… let you claim me like this, and just hope I figure out why eventually? That’s hardly fair.”

That did it, his grip that I could never hope to escape loosened. I paused, wondering if pulling away now would be tactless. I tried to repair the situation a little bit, “I mean… you haven’t been particularly objectionable to me. You’re… just a little forward.”

I could now see his face clearly; he looked to the overcast sky as if he was searching for words, “Should I be… backward? Would that help?” The brilliant smile I’d forgotten took its obvious place on his face. I contemplated laughing, because I was sure that he was joking. I settled for a small smile.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then we agree: forward is more appropriate than backward?”

My smile turned grudging without my noticing, “Yes, forward is better than back.”

“Thank goodness. Now, I can see that you are feeling a bit awkward, sitting here just with me. Rather than selfishly hoard you for myself, how about I invite your friends out to sit with us? Would that help?” He looked at me a little more anxiously than I thought he should. He seemed earnestly very concerned with making me more comfortable. This completely contradicted what he’d done just five minutes before!

He just seems stranger and stranger. At least I can speak with him properly, now. I have a general hold on his personality, shifty as it is. I am conscious of his hand that still rests on the small of my back as I respond, “Ha, charming as you are, Azure, I do enjoy other human company. Besides, this might stop some of the rumors in their tracks.”

“Rumors, you say? And these rumors are in regard to what, exactly?”
I blush heavily; I don’t want to even address all of the “whats” in my head, never mind saying them out loud!

I try to brush off the question, “You know how people talk about anything out of the norm.” He doesn’t let it go so easily, I can see that he’s teasing me.

“What is out of the norm? What is there to talk about, hmm?”

“No comment.”

“None at all? You’re not giving me much to work with, here.”

“I could say the same.”

“Hmm.”

His free hand shoots out to motion my friends from inside. I catch a glimpse at their expressions, mostly surprised. I bet they thought they were being stealthy behind their darkened glass doors. They shoot each other glances, but scramble to get up and grab their things. Heaven forbid they ignored the request of the strange new boy who was holding their friend hostage.

They ambled hastily out the door, letting it fall into the last girl, Heather. She stumbled and dropped her mostly-empty tray of food bottom-down onto the floor. I shook my head for the poor clumsy thing. Ah well, at least the food escaped unscathed. Rhea turned around to help Heather with her small crisis, anxious to come and investigate my situation. Kiara tapped her foot impatiently, holding open the menacing door.

Turning up to face the two of us, Rhea says, “Kia said that your name is Sparky? Nice to meet you, I’m Rhea! If you try anything with Libby, I’ll castrate you!” I decide that holding my expression firm will save me from a fit of giggles and a pound of embarrassment at my most blunt friend.

Azure surprises me yet again, but for an odd reason, “Ehh? If you’re going to give me a nickname, call me ‘Zuzu!’” What on Earth? Where is the well-mannered, calm boy I’ve come to know…? Or do I know him at all? Where’s the façade and why can’t I identify it?

“Well, then, Zuzu—are you going to eat anything? At least if Libs doesn’t go get food, it’s because she’s got some already.”

“Libby’s mom usually packs too much, though, right? I’ll just snack on hers.”

What? As if just knowing I bring a lunch isn’t enough, he also knows what’s inside of it? My head is spinning with these revelations! Would if hurt him to give me one every… I don’t know, five minutes? It would at least give me recovery time.

It continued like that for the remainder of the lunch period, Azure taking on a persona of the laid-back everyman’s man. It continued to baffle me. His hand continued to hold its position on my back, however. I expected a chance to escape after that class, but he got up with me and walked me to my Art class.

I was never particularly good at Art, but it was a good stress-relief class. We had just finished up a major sculpture project, and the next assignment was being announced today. Arriving at the door, I anticipated Azure pulling away. He did not. Rather, he followed me into class. At last, though, he did release me to go and talk with the teacher. He didn’t seem to be negotiating, as he would be if he weren’t supposed to be in the class. Troublesome boy, was he actually a member of this class? It wouldn’t surprise me, much. As soon as I reached my usual seat (not that they were assigned), I barely had to turn to see that Azure sat smugly in the one to my left. Class wouldn’t start for several minutes; I decided to hazard a conversation.

“What was up with you at lunch, if I may be so bold?”

The chuckle I was sure I could recognize amongst a thousand, at this point, broke off into speech, “I am quite glad that you could tell the difference. That was an attempt to make your friends feel more comfortable with me. I understand that I speak a little bit more…”

“Fancily?” I suggested.

“Alright, I speak a little bit more fancily than the average teenage boy.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” I reminded him, “I can barely keep up, and that’s saying something, I assure you.”

“That is good to know… but would you be offended if I continued on normally around you? It’s strain enough to pretend for others.”

I wasn’t that selfish, to try and tell him to speak differently for my sake! “No, I don’t mind. And frankly, that voice you use when you’re trying to blend in… it scares the hell out of me.” I giggled to soften the words.

“Maybe I will tone down that façade, if that is the case.”

“I assure you, it is.”

“Good, then.”

“Yes, good.”

This silence was formed by smirks, and therefore a lot more pleasant than some that we’d already shared in awkwardness. I tried not to gawk, but that was easier said than done.

For the first time, I notice that Azure’s charcoal hair is significantly longer in the front than in the back; odd for a boy, but I am becoming less and less sensitive to his odd facets already. I do not want to lose sensitivity to certain parts of him, odd or not. His broad smile, for example: I do not want to forget how my heart shudders (be it in annoyance or some other emotion) when he flashes a grin at me. His eyes: their light cobalt stuns me into near-submission with just a glance.

The glance currently pointed at me is amused. His eyebrows slant down mischievously, perhaps for some joke I couldn’t hear. I cock my head to the side inquisitively, he shakes his head.

“So, surrealism... Do it.” the oh-so-tactful art teacher states loudly from the front of the class.

Somebody foolishly raises their hand, “What’s that?”

“Dreams, random stuff.”

I hear a stifled chuckle beside me. How is that funny? Dreams aren’t particularly laughable. Maybe I am missing some joke.

“What media?” a different person manages.

Mr. D, lazy with lunch just passed, drawls, “Any media is fine, just get started.”

The muffled sound beside me dies suddenly; Azure speaks up in a tone that sounds more decisive than makes sense, he asks with a sort of importance, “And when is this project… due?”

“Six months, more or less.”

A startled outcry follows, “The whole rest of the school year?"
"How amazing are we supposed to make this?"
"There’s no way!”

“…that might be enough time…” Azure mutters, I almost can’t hear.

Description
His tone was odd, hesitant but urgent. I didn’t know what to make of it, much less the actual words. This boy was a mystery to me; his actions were strange in everything he did. I reluctantly broke the silence, hoping that the moment was passed.

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what you mean by that, will you?” my voice came out as barely more than a whisper, but he was so close that I knew he could hear.

Azure sighed with an emotion that I couldn’t quite read, responding “No, I cannot tell you what I meant when I said that I know you. It is more complicated than I could explain, but I hope that you, dear, will understand with time.”

I shook my head with as much vigor as I could, constricted as I was, “Time? I don’t get it, Azure. I’m supposed to just let you… let you claim me like this, and just hope I figure out why eventually? That’s hardly fair.”

That did it, his grip that I could never hope to escape loosened. I paused, wondering if pulling away now would be tactless. I tried to repair the situation a little bit, “I mean… you haven’t been particularly objectionable to me. You’re… just a little forward.”

I could now see his face clearly; he looked to the overcast sky as if he was searching for words, “Should I be… backward? Would that help?” The brilliant smile I’d forgotten took its obvious place on his face. I contemplated laughing, because I was sure that he was joking. I settled for a small smile.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then we agree: forward is more appropriate than backward?”

My smile turned grudging without my noticing, “Yes, forward is better than back.”

“Thank goodness. Now, I can see that you are feeling a bit awkward, sitting here just with me. Rather than selfishly hoard you for myself, how about I invite your friends out to sit with us? Would that help?” He looked at me a little more anxiously than I thought he should. He seemed earnestly very concerned with making me more comfortable. This completely contradicted what he’d done just five minutes before!

He just seems stranger and stranger. At least I can speak with him properly, now. I have a general hold on his personality, shifty as it is. I am conscious of his hand that still rests on the small of my back as I respond, “Ha, charming as you are, Azure, I do enjoy other human company. Besides, this might stop some of the rumors in their tracks.”

“Rumors, you say? And these rumors are in regard to what, exactly?”
I blush heavily; I don’t want to even address all of the “whats” in my head, never mind saying them out loud!

I try to brush off the question, “You know how people talk about anything out of the norm.” He doesn’t let it go so easily, I can see that he’s teasing me.

“What is out of the norm? What is there to talk about, hmm?”

“No comment.”

“None at all? You’re not giving me much to work with, here.”

“I could say the same.”

“Hmm.”

His free hand shoots out to motion my friends from inside. I catch a glimpse at their expressions, mostly surprised. I bet they thought they were being stealthy behind their darkened glass doors. They shoot each other glances, but scramble to get up and grab their things. Heaven forbid they ignored the request of the strange new boy who was holding their friend hostage.

They ambled hastily out the door, letting it fall into the last girl, Heather. She stumbled and dropped her mostly-empty tray of food bottom-down onto the floor. I shook my head for the poor clumsy thing. Ah well, at least the food escaped unscathed. Rhea turned around to help Heather with her small crisis, anxious to come and investigate my situation. Kiara tapped her foot impatiently, holding open the menacing door.

Turning up to face the two of us, Rhea says, “Kia said that your name is Sparky? Nice to meet you, I’m Rhea! If you try anything with Libby, I’ll castrate you!” I decide that holding my expression firm will save me from a fit of giggles and a pound of embarrassment at my most blunt friend.

Azure surprises me yet again, but for an odd reason, “Ehh? If you’re going to give me a nickname, call me ‘Zuzu!’” What on Earth? Where is the well-mannered, calm boy I’ve come to know…? Or do I know him at all? Where’s the façade and why can’t I identify it?

“Well, then, Zuzu—are you going to eat anything? At least if Libs doesn’t go get food, it’s because she’s got some already.”

“Libby’s mom usually packs too much, though, right? I’ll just snack on hers.”

What? As if just knowing I bring a lunch isn’t enough, he also knows what’s inside of it? My head is spinning with these revelations! Would if hurt him to give me one every… I don’t know, five minutes? It would at least give me recovery time.

It continued like that for the remainder of the lunch period, Azure taking on a persona of the laid-back everyman’s man. It continued to baffle me. His hand continued to hold its position on my back, however. I expected a chance to escape after that class, but he got up with me and walked me to my Art class.

I was never particularly good at Art, but it was a good stress-relief class. We had just finished up a major sculpture project, and the next assignment was being announced today. Arriving at the door, I anticipated Azure pulling away. He did not. Rather, he followed me into class. At last, though, he did release me to go and talk with the teacher. He didn’t seem to be negotiating, as he would be if he weren’t supposed to be in the class. Troublesome boy, was he actually a member of this class? It wouldn’t surprise me, much. As soon as I reached my usual seat (not that they were assigned), I barely had to turn to see that Azure sat smugly in the one to my left. Class wouldn’t start for several minutes; I decided to hazard a conversation.

“What was up with you at lunch, if I may be so bold?”

The chuckle I was sure I could recognize amongst a thousand, at this point, broke off into speech, “I am quite glad that you could tell the difference. That was an attempt to make your friends feel more comfortable with me. I understand that I speak a little bit more…”

“Fancily?” I suggested.

“Alright, I speak a little bit more fancily than the average teenage boy.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” I reminded him, “I can barely keep up, and that’s saying something, I assure you.”

“That is good to know… but would you be offended if I continued on normally around you? It’s strain enough to pretend for others.”

I wasn’t that selfish, to try and tell him to speak differently for my sake! “No, I don’t mind. And frankly, that voice you use when you’re trying to blend in… it scares the hell out of me.” I giggled to soften the words.

“Maybe I will tone down that façade, if that is the case.”

“I assure you, it is.”

“Good, then.”

“Yes, good.”

This silence was formed by smirks, and therefore a lot more pleasant than some that we’d already shared in awkwardness. I tried not to gawk, but that was easier said than done.

For the first time, I notice that Azure’s charcoal hair is significantly longer in the front than in the back; odd for a boy, but I am becoming less and less sensitive to his odd facets already. I do not want to lose sensitivity to certain parts of him, odd or not. His broad smile, for example: I do not want to forget how my heart shudders (be it in annoyance or some other emotion) when he flashes a grin at me. His eyes: their light cobalt stuns me into near-submission with just a glance.

The glance currently pointed at me is amused. His eyebrows slant down mischievously, perhaps for some joke I couldn’t hear. I cock my head to the side inquisitively, he shakes his head.

“So, surrealism... Do it.” the oh-so-tactful art teacher states loudly from the front of the class.

Somebody foolishly raises their hand, “What’s that?”

“Dreams, random stuff.”

I hear a stifled chuckle beside me. How is that funny? Dreams aren’t particularly laughable. Maybe I am missing some joke.

“What media?” a different person manages.

Mr. D, lazy with lunch just passed, drawls, “Any media is fine, just get started.”

The muffled sound beside me dies suddenly; Azure speaks up in a tone that sounds more decisive than makes sense, he asks with a sort of importance, “And when is this project… due?”

“Six months, more or less.”

A startled outcry follows, “The whole rest of the school year?"
"How amazing are we supposed to make this?"
"There’s no way!”

“…that might be enough time…” Azure mutters, I almost can’t hear.