One and then Two

An eight year old girl got wings. Now she's fifteen, flying at night for the thrill of it and convinced there's another like her doing the same. On her quest to find them, she must be careful not to reveal what she is.

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4. History with Mr Meyers

I walked into the classroom and sat at my desk - not so far forward that I'm considered a nerd, not so close to the centre of the room that people would notice me and not so close to the back that people would consider me a bad student. I play it smart. I sit in the middle row but close to the window so that people's eyes tend to skim over me as they enter the room.

Apparently, not everyone's eyes skim over me. One sticks. One sticks and then starts towards me. Guess who? 

The new guy.

He plopped himself right next to me and got out his books. 

"Hey I'm Fynn, I'm new," he tells me. His eyes are a bright and trusting blue, his dusty brown hair flops into his eyes and his nose is just off centre enough that I know he plays sports. Selena was right; he's gorgeous. 

"Alex, Alex Winters," I replied, keeping my gaze low and trying not to melt in my seat from his nearby presence.

"Well Alex, Alex Winters, you look quite-"

Mr Meyers chose that precise moment to walk into class.

"Alex, close the window, we really don't want a draft in here, it's already cold enough," Mr Meyers says.

I sigh, all I want is for Fynn to finish the sentence. I don't normally crush on guys, especially not the obvious ones. All that leads to is heartbreak- something I definitely don't want. What made it worse was that there was no way Fynn would ever ask me out. High school rules clearly stated that. Fynn was a definite jock, giving him popularity far higher than mine. High school was like being in a stereotypical old-fashioned wealthy family; you had to marry within your ranks, definitely not below. So, while I didn't want to marry him, I did want to date him. Next I'd be scrawling Mrs Fynn Connors on my history book.

I slumped in my chair and listened to Mr Meyers lectures, my eyes drifting to Fynn. I may have imagined it, but I think he looked at me too.

I was done for. It was the beginning of the end.

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