Millie lingered in front of her locker, her hands shaking. This wasn't a good idea. Every time she stuck around longer than necessary, Harkin's bullies would show up to push her around and demand protection money. Money she didn't have. So she'd learned how to avoid them.

But this time, she took the risk. Because from time to time, Davyn also appeared at this hour and she really needed to see him. He'd suddenly disappeared and she hadn't seen him in four days. Was he that upset with her over the college thing? But he didn't seem like the type to cower. He was confrontational. He would've sought her out just to hammer home how insensitive or intrusive she'd been. Though she didn't think she'd been. She was just looking out for him and she stuck by what he said. People like Davyn should go to college.

Even if she didn't plan on apologizing about it, it was still odd that he'd vanished. She'd gone to the library, to the gym, even to the art room. She'd waited for him in the music room, hardly able to concentrate and work. 

A part of her was terrified that something could've happened to him. Another part had the solace that she could find out soon enough. There would be a basketball game that evening, and she knew he was on the team. If he didn't show up for the game, then she could panic. Until then, maybe he'd just had enough of her.

The thought was painful, especially since it didn't explain why he'd asked her out if he was planning to ditch her. Though he hadn't done it after their date. Then what was going on inside his head? What did he want? What did she want? How could not seeing him hurt so much?

It didn't hurt. She was being overdramatic. But there was a constant knot in her chest that wouldn't go away and she was even jumpier than usual.

You'll see him tonight. Just focus on what you have to do.

But she couldn't. It was like her inner flame had been taken away. Instead of playing the piano, she felt like painting, which was her go-to activity when she was sad or thoughtful. It was better than waiting around for no one though, so she opened her locker and deposited her history books and backpack, replacing them with a stack of books on Renascence painting techniques.

She kicked the door closed with her heel and headed down the hall, trying her best to keep her mind on her projects. The moment she turned the corner, she rammed into someone. Her books went flying in all directions, fanning across the tiles.

"I'm so sorry!" She immediately crouched and began gathering her things.

Once she stood with her arms stacked again, the person she'd bumped into relieved her of half of them. A pair of light brown eyes glanced at her from an impressive height. The man he'd bumped into was remarkably tall, almost as tall as Davyn. That alone brought a pang of longing through her heart.

"Maybe if you carried fewer books, you'd see better." 

His tone was amused as he analyzed one of the books he'd picked up from her. The subject matter seemed to surprise him because he turned back to her, taking in her dirty overalls and her braids.

"Do you paint?" he asked, sounding genuinely intrigued.

"Yes, I actually do."

He let out a low whistle. "That's impressive. I was never really much for the arts myself, so I appreciate anyone with creativity."

"Thank you."

He smiled at her and she had to admit that he was good-looking with his brown hair and angular jaw. The maroon suit probably made him look older than he was.

For a moment, they just stood in silence and she wondered why he wasn't going on his way. Could he be a new teacher or something? He looked a little young for that, maybe in his early twenties. Either way, if he was, she could already hear most of her classmates swooning over him.

"Um, need help with something?" she asked, trying to end the awkward silence.

"Actually, yes. I'm looking for the principal's office."

Yep, he was probably a new teacher. "I can take you there. It's nowhere near around here."

"Oh, thank you. Let me help you with your books though."

Millie nodded and the two of them headed toward the principal's office. The man kept looking around with wonder as if he'd never seen a school before. After a while, he huffed.

"For such a posh, expensive school, I was expecting it to be a little more..."

"Posh?"

"I guess," he admitted, sounding a bit sheepish.

"I've been to worse schools," she said with a shrug. Which was true. Her former school had been dirty and sticky and nowhere near as large as this one. Here, they had room and designated spaces. The art and music rooms were everything she could've hoped for.

He tilted his head in a thoughtful manner. "I guess my school wasn't as nice. Not sure why I was expecting so much more here. It is a school after all."

"It's not supposed to be too joyful," she said before she could help herself.

This drew a smile out of him. It startled her how much younger he looked now, and he really was good-looking. "True."

She stopped in front of the principal's office, glad that the whole interaction hadn't turned awkward. Who knew? He could end up being her teacher at some point. She opened her mouth to ask what he taught, but changed her mind. It felt intrusive.

"Here we are."

"Oh," he looked a little disappointed that they were there already. "Thank you, um... I didn't catch your name.'

She struggled to balance her books on her hip and reached out her hand. "Maximillianne."

He took her hand and gave it a light squeeze, his face filled with surprise. "That's such a beautiful name."

"Really?" She had to fight not to shake her head in bewilderment. People usually commented on how long and difficult it was. Just like Davyn had. The thought of him had her stomach clenching painfully again.

"Yes. It fits your artsy persona very well. Sounds very..."

"French?"

"Yes." His smile broadened. "I'm Freider."

"What?"

He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know."

Heat crept to her cheeks. She'd been so incredibly rude. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just so... Unique."

"True. But everyone gets it wrong either in spelling or pronunciation. It's spelled F-R-E-I-D-E-R and pronounced Frey-derr. Everyone tends to call me Fry-derr at first."

She kept blinking at him like an idiot but it was such an odd name. "Does it have any particular meaning?"

"My mother did mention it at one point, but it's so silly that I refuse to believe it. She could've successfully pleaded insanity." There was a note of bitterness in his voice as he said the last phrase.

It only made her curious. "Do tell."

It was maybe rude and intrusive, but for some reason, she had the feeling he didn't mind her butting in. When he heaved another sigh, she was sure he was going to tell her.

"Well, she said that while pregnant with me, she was constantly afraid something bad would happen. So when nothing did, she wished for me to be fearless, or never afraid. So she called me Freider as the opposite of afraid?"

"Wow, that is..."

"Stupid, you can say it. I don't like my mother that much."

She covered her mouth to hide a giggle, but Freider was smiling.

"It was great to meet you Maximillianne. I hope we'll see each other again."

She just nodded and received the rest of her books before he entered the principal's office and left her alone.

♣

Meeting Freider had managed to take Millie's mind off Davyn for a moment, but once she reached the art room, all she could focus on was his portrait. She'd started it mostly to recreate the color of his eyes which fascinated her.

She'd blended so many shades until she'd finally managed to get something similar. It was still inaccurate. She needed to blend more, to put more feelings behind them. The color haunted her. Was he alright? The question swirled around her head as she mixed and matched some more, putting a tinge of blue into his hair as well. It made it come alive. Sometimes, even she couldn't understand how mixing colors could make such a change, provide that one missing detail that made portraits and scenes come to life.

It was the same with his eyes. She's been searching for the right color since it became apparent that they would continue to meet. Ever since he'd seen the portrait, she'd tried even harder. And now, with every new brush stroke, new ghosts seemed to nestle behind his eyes. Would she even get the color right?

She still tried, moving back, changing angles, trying again, the light making it difficult to be objective as if weaned outside the window until it was dark.

It shouldn't be dark. She glanced at her watch and flinched. 

Absorbed as she'd been in her painting, she'd lost track of time and now she was late for the game. It was probably almost over, and if she didn't see Davyn because of her airheadedness, she would never forgive herself. She hastily lowered her palette and hurried to the sink in the corner to wash her hands. There was paint on her face! As much as she scrubbed, she couldn't get it off entirely and she had no time for this.

Resigned with showing up dirty, she hurried to the door and stepped out into the hallway. The cheers and noise from the gym were now very obvious and she made her way there. The game was probably close to being over. It explained the noise and the nervous energy. Heart thumping against her ribs, she scurried there and opened the door as silently as possible.

The bleachers were filled to the brim with enthusiastic spectators, students as well as adults. Their team, dressed in scarlet and black, was facing rivals from another school, but Millie couldn't remember who they were or what the stakes of the game were. She'd never cared and Davyn didn't talk about basketball much.

Her eyes searched the field and it didn't take her long to see him. He was tall, even for a basketball player. A weight seemed to have lifted off her shoulders. He was there, he was fine. The relief was immediately followed by pain. He didn't want to see her anymore.

But as she continued to study him, she could tell something wasn't right. She'd seen him before in the gym, how fast he could run, how he practiced shooting hoops from every angle. Now, he was almost stationary, waiting and passing the ball as soon as it reached him.

"Damn it, Davyn, shoot!" one of his teammates yelled.

In the fray, Millie turned to the scoreboard. They were losing. By two points, but still losing. There was less than a minute until the game was over and for some reason, Davyn refused to shoot.

He was sluggish and uncoordinated, obviously unable to focus.

Something had happened. Something bad which had plunged him back into the guy she'd first met, overexerting himself and blasting noisy rock music.

Like in a dream, her eyes drifted toward the sound system. It was right there, a few feet from her. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but there seemed to be a tape inside it, maybe one of his.

The noise of the crowd was deafening. Davyn still looked dazed as his teammates fought to score and not lose the game. One of them tossed the ball to him. He pivoted towards the hoop, but didn't move. It was far. Very far. The clock was ticking.

Millie made up her mind. She strode to the sound system and pressed play. The chords of that annoying rock music burst through the air, covering the sound of the crowd. She twisted in time to see Davyn's eyes fixed on her. Then, a tiny smirk lifted a corner of his mouth and he turned towards the hoop. After a second in which he seemed to lock the target, he took the shot.

The air seemed to freeze as the final three seconds of the game elapsed. The ball went through the hoop with a swish at the one-second mark. A buzzer announced the game was over. Even if they'd been two points behind, their team had won by one point for some reason.

The crowd went wild as the entire team rushed to huddle with Davyn. A smile broke on Millie's face, but it quickly disappeared once someone grabbed her forearm.

"What do you think you're doing?" a man said between his teeth.

She started, but couldn't break free of his hold. The man used his free hand to stop the music, then pulled her out into the hall.

"You almost cost us the game, you silly girl," the man kept mumbling, dragging her towards the school.

She stumbled in his wake, aware that he was one of the PE teachers, even though not hers. A part of her wanted to point out that she'd saved the game and Davyn needed the music to focus, but her tongue was tied. She hadn't realized just how much adrenaline had poured through her until she was out in the cool hallway and it fizzled out of her.

This was ridiculous. She hadn't done anything that deserved being manhandled by an angry teacher. She opened her mouth to explain that it was Davyn's music and it helped him get his mind back in the game, but closed it back. She wasn't exactly sure if Davyn was allowed to be there at night or use the sound system.

In a matter of minutes, she found herslef in a dingy little office, sitting on a hard wooden chair, being written up.

"I have no idea what you were thinking," the man kept mumbling. "You're lucky he scored or..."

Or what, she wasn't certain. She doubted there was a certain punishment for distracting star basketball players. But she kept her mouth shut and took the detention.

"And I want those tapes out of the gym! You're not allowed to leave your private stuff in there."

"Yes, sir, I'll take them right away."

"You'd better."

He kept thundering, but she tuned him out. She wanted to see Davyn and ask if she'd really bothered him. Though by the smirk on his face, she sincerely doubted it. But she wanted to talk. And that man was keeping her away from him.

By the time she could finally leave, the school was empty. The gym was also dark and empty and she felt like screaming. Where was she supposed to find him now? Her teeth hurt from how hard she pressed them together and she finally gave up and screamed into the darkness. This was so unfair! Why did he leave? For a second she was sure this was it, that things would go back to normal, that her heart would stop aching and she could breathe properly again.

Instead, her chest hurt. Her entire body seemed to hurt as she dragged her feet back up the stairs, toward her room. Why was he doing this to her? Couldn't he hang around for just a few minutes and talk to her? He used to be in school all the time and now...

She slammed the door to her room open.

"Calm down, you dork!" Karen said, doing up the zipper of her faux leather pants.

"Millie, what happened?" Diana asked. She too seemed to be getting ready to go out. "I saw coach Davis taking you out. Are you in trouble?"

"I got detention," she mumbled, heading for her bed.

Diana sucked air through her teeth, but it was buried by Karen's laugh.

"Serves you right! What the fuck were you thinking?"

"It certainly helped Davyn," Bianca said. "It was his first shot and he won us the game."

Exactly! But she didn't say it, just let herself fall on the bed.

"You should come with us," Diana said. "Everyone in their right mind--" She glared at Karen "-- could see you helped. We're going to the after-party!"

After-party. Millie sat up in bed and the question of whether Davyn would be there was halfway to her lips when she stopped herself.

"I'm sure he'll be there," Diana said with a smile. "And that he'll want to thank you."

Karen huffed, brushing her weedy hair. "Puh-lease. He doesn't give a shit about her. You know how he is."

"Will you shut up, already, Karen?" Bianca snapped, then turned back to Millie. "Seriously, come with us."

Millie glared at Karen and got back to her feet. With the risk of finding another dead rat in her sheets, she wasn't going to miss the opportunity to see Davyn and talk to him.

"Okay, I'm coming."

♣️♣️♣️

Something majorly important has happened in this chapter. Because for those who already know where the story is headed... well, now you know how it started.

Also, poor Millie being ghosted like that. Weren't the 90s a magical time without cell phones? You would just assume someone was dead, lol.

Hope you're having fun with the story. All feedback is greatly appreciated! And don't forget to vote!