CHAPTER 1
Friday September 5th 2014
First day of school, first day of grade eleven to be exact. It would have been fine if I hadn’t switched schools and moved back to my old house in the summer. It was the first day of grade nine all over again, but in this school things seemed different than my last school; everyone seemed perfect… maybe too perfect. There were cliques but they all seemed to get along and ---
“Obsidian?”
I snapped out of my usual daze quickly this time with almost no one noticing the small jump at the sound of my name as it echoed through the big room coming from the booming voice of Mr. Watters, my first period English teacher.
“Here”
I tried my best to stay invisible. Obviously it didn’t work. When I lifted my eyes from my desk there were more than ten curious pairs on my face. Gradually the staring heads turned away. Mr. Watters marked me down present, absentmindedly saying
“Now there is a name you don’t see every day... what’s your background Obsidian?”
He looked at me expecting an answer so I gave him the one he was most likely looking for.
I managed to get out “Um my parents are Greek but I was born in Spain...”
The Teacher cut in “That is very interesting are they both Greek?”
This is great! Now I’m having a public conversation with the teacher in front of the class.
“No. Well I’m not exactly sure. I was adopted a while ago I don’t really remember my parents that well.”
There it was: the lie I always have to use. It’s a lot easier than the truth, the one piece of information Mason said not to share. The lie was the only way to get teachers to stop talking to me. An awkward situation always brings people to change the subject. I will just have to deal with Mason later.
Mr. Watters face reddened clearly uncomfortable.
“Oh, uh my condolences. We should really get to the lesson.”
Well maybe it wasn’t the best idea to use that information on the first day of school but it was necessary. I can’t handle the stares even though that comment has now caused even more people to stare. But almost everyone once again turned back to pay attention to the lesson surrounding our construction of the play Romeo and Juliet. There was one though, who continued to stare not getting the hint that I was steeped in discomfort and it was slowly getting a lot more awkward. Finally I met eyes with the mystery boy sitting three seats in front of me. They were VIOLET! His eyes were violet. He smiled at me in a friendly manner, it didn’t suit his face; the smile he wore, it looked very false. He must have noticed my alarmed expression because he turned his head abruptly. I was shaking I have never seen something like this before, except once
***
I was about five. My parents and I were going to the park for a picnic, something they loved to do. I would fly a kite I had made with my father, taking it running down the hill to pick up speed to put it in the sky. On that day there was something different about my special park. There was a boy there.
“Mommy, who is that?”
My curious mind was always looking for answers from my mother.
“Who are you talking about Obsidian?”
It startled my five year old mind that she did not notice the boy sitting in the middle of an open field, as if he was a huge sign saying RANDOM OBJECT LOOK HERE. But no she did not see him so I asked again pointing this time with my tiny fingers.
“Over there in the field, look!”
She turned her head to see what I was pointing at yet she still did not see him. This was very odd. So I giggled and started running off as my mother suspected that it was a harmless game of make believe, so she let me continue with my kite and little game. I made sure to go when my mother wasn’t looking as I wasn’t sure if she was pretending not to see the boy sitting cross-legged in the field.
“Hello” I said to the boy and smiled.
He was looking down at the ground not answering so I squatted beside him and said hello again. This time the boy looked up at me- his eyes were not purple as the boy in my class had but his eyes were pink. A soft mellow pink which was a calming feature. He looked curious and surprised.
“You can see me?!”
He was so alarmed. At that point I realized that my mom wasn’t joking and I was the only one that could see him.
“Of course I can silly” I smiled at him and nudged him a little bit.
“…no one can see me” he whispered, looking at his feet.
I thought for a little,
“It’s nice to meet you my name is no one”
I said grinning at the idea. This perked him up a little as he was startled by my unexpected comment. I for one was loving this. He smiled back
“Well nice to meet you no one my name is Carson.”
It was quite the encounter. I didn’t expect he had a nice name to match his personality.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are your eyes pink?”
At this point the smile wiped off his face and he once again had a grim expression so I didn’t continue with the topic.
“Do you want to fly my kite with me?”
He looked happy once again and said “Yes no one I do”
I liked having a friend to play with because I didn’t have many to begin with. My parents kept me away from the other children in the town. At the time I didn’t know why.
***
English class went on as a normal class would. There was one thing that concerned me though; at the end of the period Mr. Watters let everyone know that the English classes will be working with the drama team on Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet and performing it by the end of the semester. I for one would not be one of the main characters, maybe a side character or an extra. I will leave the big roles to the drama buffs in the classroom. Besides, they’re all pretty good looking and are probably used to being the center of attention.
I picked up my binder and textbook and was heading to my second period class, when a foot came out of nowhere and my books went flying across the room hitting the boy with purple eyes right in the back. Just my luck. As I lay completely disgruntled by the fall on the ground I looked up to secure my surroundings and my nose bumped right into a shoe. I followed the shoe with my eyes and it belonged to an extremely handsome boy with a sneer plastered on his face.
“DAMIAN!”
A deep voice came out of the purple eyed boy. Making him even less likely to be the high pitched calm little pink eyed boy I met so many years ago. The evil looking boy answered.
“Oh I’m sorry my foot has got a mind of its own.”