Raven

The sky is gloomy and dark clouds hang low.  A violent wind howls through the air, scattering leaves all around. 

I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. 
The scent of the air causes a smile to tug at the corners of my lips. 

Such beautiful weather.

My ankle’s gotten better. I can walk now, though with a slight limp. 
Honestly, I’m just grateful I’m no longer feeling handicapped. 

Today, I have art practice with Mrs. Ellara. I’m excited because there’s something new I’ve been itching to work on and I can't wait to move my pencil and paintbrush over surfaces, to feel that tranquility and clear mindedness that comes with making art.

Today feels like one of those rare, calm days. No one’s bothering me. Nothing’s overdue. 
Everything feels light, like I can finally focus on my art… and maybe some sky gazing too, later at night, if that makes any sense. 

While walking alone to school, I spot a ladder leaning against a wall. 
And of course, my intrusive thoughts, which are stronger than my self-control, whisper to me to walk under it. 

Now, I know there’s a superstition about walking under ladders. 
With everything happening in my life lately… I can’t help but wonder if maybe these things actually have meaning. 

Looking back, every time something known for bringing good or bad luck has happened, a wish seems to come true, good or bad.

The wishbone snapping. The black cat. The four-leaf clover. 

It’s starting to make sense. 

I wish Daisy had been clearer. 

Before I can second-guess myself, I’ve already taken two steps under the ladder. 
I glance around quickly to make sure no one sees. 
Then I decide to run from under there quickly, trying to shake off the weird feeling that has suddenly come over me, but I don’t notice the raised edge of the pavement. 

I trip. 

My shoulder hits the ground hard, taking full impact. 

“Ow,” I mutter, wincing as pain throbs through it. 

Luckily, my ankle’s fine and my shoulder just aches. No cracks, no breaks. 
Thank goodness because at this point, I don’t think I can handle another injury. 

“Are you, like, always falling down now?”

My heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice, and I stare at the ground, coming to the sudden realisation that once again he's seeing me on the ground.

Here we go again, I think to myself. Not us meeting for the millionth time this week.

When I went home yesterday, I couldn’t help but think about how much my mood had lifted after the short talk we had. After a few minutes of bantering, the bus finally came, and I went home. Quite surprisingly, as I doodled on one of my textbooks while studying, I realized I missed him.

I never miss anyone. Well, I missed my parents when they died years ago and sometimes I miss the company of my best friends, but I never really miss him. It’s like I want to speak more with him. Which is crazy.

He sticks out his hand to me with boldness I'll never understand, cocking his head. Without thinking, I grab it, and he pulls me up.

As I dust off my shorts, I try not to focus on the way his palm felt on mine. These days, every time our bodies touch, I feel this sting, like electricity sparking and I hate it.

“Maybe only when you’re nearby or something,” I mutter.

“Mm,” he says, nodding. "Hey, we’re going the same way, so we might as well walk together.”

I stare at him as wind whips strands of his hair into his eyes. “Both of us? Walk together? To school?”

He nods. “Yeah. Like I said, we’re both going the same way anyway. Saying no doesn’t really change anything. We're going to be walking together, just on different paths of the road."

I roll my eyes. “Why is your logic always like—” I start, but then I give up. "You know what, sure."

I grip the handle of my backpack tightly as we walk.

“So. You’re in a better mood today,” he says.

My heart squeezes in my chest at the fact that he notices. I’m so good at hiding my emotions, but he somehow finds a way to read me.

His expression changes quickly once he notices my uneasy look.

"Oh yeah, what about your art? You changed the topic the last time I was asking about it.”

“Asking me about what? We never agreed on anything.”

“Okay, so let’s agree now.”

“Huh?”

“You show me your art. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it.”

“I mean… you could just go to the art room if you’re that curious,” I dismiss.

“No. I want you to show me.”

“You’re beginning to ask too much from me, Nathan.”

He only laughs, making a deep hearty sound that makes my insides warm. I can’t help but like it.

And as we walk the rest of the way to school, I realize that that’s not the only thing I’m starting to like about him.

๑๑๑

Nathan

It’s bad enough that I have to leave the house holding back tears just so no one at school starts worrying. But now, it’s about to rain.

Could this day get any worse?

As I walk to school, I greet a few people on the way, my teammates, classmates, and a couple of random schoolmates. I say hi to about twenty people before I can finally be on my own.

A girl I’ve talked to casually before walks up to me. 

“Hey Nate, I want to ask you something,” she says, her bright smile practically blinding me. 

She’s really pretty. Her pale grey eyes are such a great contrast to Raven’s dark ones. I quickly shake my head.

Why am I thinking of Raven's eyes?

Before I can figure that out, the girl speaks again. 
“We’ve been talking for a while now, and I was just wondering…” She fiddles with the heart necklace around her neck. “If we could go out sometime? Maybe just grab something together?”

“When?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.

“Maybe after school? Around six? How does that sound?”
I’m used to being asked out and although I'm thrilled, I end up turning most people down. A few times, I say yes, but it never becomes anything serious. There’s too much going on in my life.

And the fact that I decide to stay away is more for them than for me. But… she’s pretty. So why not?

“Sure. You text me, we’ll arrange it.”

“Okay,” she says, smiling wide before walking off with a wave.

For some reason, I feel... weird. Like something’s off. The feeling is quickly pushed aside when I see someone trip and fall just a few feet ahead of me. 

Who the hell is that? I think as I walk toward the wall where a ladder is propped up...and there she is.

Raven. On the ground.

“Oh God,” I mutter, jogging over despite myself.

“Are you, like, always falling down now?” I ask, raising a brow.

I reach out a hand, and to my surprise, she takes it without a single sarcastic comment.

She gives me the stink eye. “Maybe only when you're nearby or something.”

I convince her to walk to school with me and as we walk the rest of the way, I push aside the thought of how easily she held my hand. We talk, well, more like banter, and somewhere in the middle of it, I realize something.

My mood’s lifted. And I notice that hers has too.

When I went home yesterday, after waiting with her at the bus stop, I couldn’t help but think of how different things felt when we were not arguing or throwing jabs at each other. When we’re not being enemies, she’s actually kind of… good company.

And I don’t know what scares me more...realizing that, or the fact that I’m starting to like  it.

As we walk, the clouds darken even more, so much so that I start to feel uneasy. It’s not even a normal gray; it looks heavier, stranger. 

She looks up at the cloud, an adorable smile on her face.

“You like the weather?” I ask, shielding my face from the leaves that are rapidly swirling around us.

The wind rustles my hair, and hers fly across her face. I have to restrain myself from reaching out to brush it away.

“Of course I love this weather,” she says. “It’s my favorite.” 

She pauses like she’s realizing how much she just revealed, then turns to glance at me. I quickly look down at my sneakers.

“I don’t know why everyone hates this kind of weather,” she continues. “Well, not everyone, but most people. They act like sunny weather is the only kind that matters. And I get it, rain can ruin your day or your plans, but come on. Don’t think about that stuff. Just focus on this for a moment, the feel of the wind on your skin, the cold, the colour and that feeling you get when you look at the sky as it darkens, in contrast to the brighter section of the sky."

I shiver slightly. A small smile spreads on my face as I try to look at it from her perspective. The feel of the wind is nice. The sky does look captivating.

"Cloudy weather could be nice,” I muse, still watching her. "Maybe sometimes, the things we see as undesirable and dark could be...special."

Even though she’s not looking at me, something about the moment feels… like a realization forming quietly in the back of my mind. When she finally does turn to meet my eyes, I almost look away.

She holds my gaze longer than usual, and I nearly break it before she does. Then her eyes drop to my chest, and she points.

“You’ve always worn that… like, I can’t remember a time you didn’t. That necklace.”

I fiddle with the guitar pick resting against my shirt and give a small, sad smile. 
“It was my dad’s.”

Her eyes widen slightly.

“He used to play guitar,” I explain. “He was in a band, actually.”

Her face lights up with interest. “Oh, really?” A smile curves on her lips. “That’s cool. Your dad was cooler than you, then.”

I laugh softly. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Yeah, so…” I add, my voice quieter now. “He died a few years ago. It's just me and my mom now. I miss him, so I’ve always kept this with me. It just… reminds me of him.”

I glance at her again, and for a moment I think maybe I shouldn’t have said all that. But then she does something unexpected: she wraps one arm around me, giving a loose, gentle hug and a soft pat on my arm.

“I’m sorry about that,” she says quietly. It’s the first time I’ve heard her say something like that, and somehow, it matters more than I expected.

"But hey,” she adds, “at least you have something to remember him by. That’s special. I wish I’d done that for mine.”