Gods & Monsters(8)

What Sky said to me at church weeks ago is still true. I can’t even talk to him, let alone be friends with him. I shouldn’t want to be. My mom would kill us both.

Even so, I want to ask him a million things whenever I see him. Like, why does he always carry a camera? Or if black is his favorite color, because he doesn’t wear anything else. Or why does he stare at me and why can’t I look away from him? There has to be an explanation for that.

I take in a deep breath and walk down the aisle. It’s happening again. I can’t look away, no matter how much I try to. His head is bent over something I can’t see, so he hasn’t noticed me. But I know, I know that he will. It’s just one of those things. Natural and pre-programmed.

I’m so focused on him and this weird phenomenon that happens whenever we’re around each other, that I don’t see someone grabbing my arm until I’m stopped. I turn to see the arm-grabber and it’s Jessica Roberts, one of my classmates.

Jessica and I have always gotten along super well. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But I just…” She glances left, then right. “Would you like to sit here? With us?”

I frown at her. “Oh. Um, well, that’s so sweet but I think I’ll stick with my old seat.”

“Are you sure?” She looks nervous, chewing on her lip. “I mean, we do have seats up front.”

“But…” I sort of laugh, not because it’s funny, but because her offer is weird. I never sit up front. But before I can think too much about it, the side of my face prickles. My gaze leaves her and swings to the boy sitting in the back.

Abel’s watching me with his maple syrupy eyes. I feel relieved that he sensed my presence, that the phenomenon is real. I’m not making it up. Though the question is, why the heck is it happening?

“Evie.” Jessica draws my attention back to her. “You’re welcome to sit with us. In fact, I think we can use this time to maybe discuss…” She glances over at Abel before looking back at me. “What Mrs. Johnson taught us. Frankly, it confused me so I’d love your help.”

Now I see what’s going on. Everyone knows that the back of the bus is my territory. I sit in a corner and no one bothers me. But Abel is sitting there now and most of the people are afraid of him, like Jessica and her gang.

God, when will people stop being afraid of him?

Personally, I think some of them are being mean and dragging this too far. He’s not bad. He’s shown no signs of being anything but nice. Like, the other day, he held the church’s door open for Mrs. Weatherby, but that witch refused to even enter. She turned up her nose and didn’t budge from her spot until Abel’s jaw got really tight like it did the first day when he was with Mr. Adams, and he left. I tried to catch his eye that day but he wouldn’t look at me. Though I knew that he was aware of me. He’s always aware.

He’s not a monster, I want to scream. Instead, I say, “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

Jessica opens her mouth to say something but I raise my hand and stop her. “I said I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

With that, I resume walking to the back. The bones of Abel’s face are so prominent right now, so high and cut. The brown of his eyes seems to be getting darker the closer I get. I come to stand before him, the closest I’ve been to him ever, and he swallows.

Now that I’m here and every single person on the bus is staring at me, I don’t know what to do. I know what I’d like to do. I’d like to sit by him and say hi. I’d like to smile at him and tell him that I’m sorry for all the crap people have been giving him.

But before I can say anything, the bus lurches and pulls out, and I stumble forward, gasping. Then I feel a strong grip on my shoulders – a warm grip – steadying me, putting me upright. But more than that I smell tangy apples.

Abel Adams smells of apples.

He’s so close to me that I can count his eyelashes, which are darker than his hair and thick, probably like a jungle. It will take time but I’m sure I can count them.

Abel Adams is also touching me. In broad daylight, in front of all these people, with sun shining down on his golden hair.

Oh my God.

This is the exact thing that shouldn’t be happening. I shouldn’t be this close to him and I shouldn’t be counting his eyelashes or thinking about his brown eyes.

“Thank you,” I whisper for saving me from the fall.

He pushes me away until I’m standing on my own. “Don’t mention it.”

Like an idiot I never wondered about his voice. I mean, I’ve seen him talk to Mr. B and a couple other people at the stores in town, but I never heard it before now. His voice isn’t like the voice of any boy I know. It’s not boyish or anything, but also, it’s not grown up. I’d say maybe it’s on the verge of being grown up.

Abel has turned away, and now he’s looking out the window. I notice a drawing pad on his lap, which is snapped shut with a pencil peeking over the edge. Does he draw and like photography? Another question added to the list of questions I’ll never get to ask him.

“You gonna sit?” he asks, looking at the passing scenery before glancing at me. “Or you gonna stare at me the whole way back?”

He raises his eyebrows and they hit the messy strands of his hair. I’m familiar with that look. That’s the look Sky always has when she’s trying to get me to do something.