Mel and I had; we'd grown up together and had, at one time, lived down the street from each other.
Athol was short for his age, but was well-built, with light brown hair and pretty hazel eyes. He was an attractive troublemaker.
"Sorry Rho, didn't mean to startle you," he laughed, his eyes crinkling.
"Dork. You need something?" I asked, my hand resting on my chest as I took a deep calming breath.
"Nah, just saw you standing here and thought I'd come bug you," Athol shrugged. He grabbed my bag from me and slung it over one shoulder, bowing awkwardly, he winked, "May I walk you to class fair lady?"
I shook my head and grabbed back my bag. "Get up Athol, sheesh." I rolled my eyes, "and you can walk me to class if you really want to, I guess."
What I thought might have been hurt passed over his face and was gone in a second as he gave me a lopsided grin.
"I was just teasing Rho, you know my last class is woodshop, in the opposite direction of Study Skills," He looked toward the doors we were standing next to and I was again filled with a sense of longing to have a class not so....boring.
"OK, well see you Monday, Athol," I told him. He walked away, turning briefly to give me a silly salute and then disappeared just like Mel had.
I walked into class and looked around; I was the first one there. Study Skills was in a small classroom, painted in what I thought the worst shade of brown in the whole school. It smelled faintly of pipe tobacco, as Mr. Larson was known to sneak away more than the stoner boys to smoke his pipe in the teacher's lounge.
I chose a desk in the back, like normal, and sat down, pulling out a battered and worn copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula. I had finished all my new books, but mom said I wasn't allowed into a book store for a couple of weeks; too exciting for me, apparently. Just thinking about it was enough to make me roll my eyes and wish I was an orphan.
I was completely engrossed in the part where Mina tells them she has been forced to drink Dracula's blood, when a soft male voice spoke to me. I looked up and my heart, that betraying organ, beat so loudly, I was positive he heard it.
Julian Daramonth was standing in front of me, with half a smile on his beautiful, full lips.
"What?" I asked, blushing and feeling incredibly stupid.
"I asked if I could sit next to you Rose," he repeated.
"Ummm, my name's not Rose," I told him. Great, didn't that make me feel even more like a loser?
"No, it's not, but Rhodanthe means 'rose blossom,' doesn't it?" he asked, his lips curving upward in a smile.
This time I smiled back and as my heart sputtered again, he frowned, like he could actually hear it.
"Now, Rose, may I sit next to you?" he asked again. This time I nodded and then dove right back into my book, letting my waist length pitch-colored curls fall a little in front of my face. My hair was the only thing I was truly vain about, so showing it off made me feel a bit better.
I tried to get back into my book but it was hopeless with him sitting so close to me. He smelled good, like the musky sweet incense that my dad burned in his office. I wasn't really supposed to know that because my mom wouldn't let him burn it near me, but when she wasn't looking, dad would let me curl up in one of his big leather chairs and read with him.
I glanced over at Julian; he looked like what I had always imagined the Greek god Hades would look like. His skin was pale and smooth and I had to restrain myself from reaching out to touch it. His hair was almost as dark as mine, with a little curl to it that fell across his forehead shading his eyes. His features were sharp and he looked to be right between the stages of boyhood and manhood.
Almost as if he could hear my thoughts or sense my gaze, he looked up from his Botany book and caught my eyes with his. I held my breath, a little frightened and excited at the same time. His eyes were crystal blue; almost too bright to be natural, but I couldn't see a boy like Julian