Icicle

WINTER IN YEREVAN was different this time.

The air was frozen lace on my skin, delicate and cold, like winter waves on sallow sand. The sky was washed with grey, watery light illuminating thin patches to brilliance. In a dazed moment, I watched my maroon boots over the frozen sidewalk, perfect concrete slabs, flat and square, and in others transfixed to the interplay of cloud and sun above.

As I trudged along with the other students to the entrance of our high school, my eyes automatically looked everywhere for him. The everlasting curious feeling gnawed on my insides as I held my backpack tighter to me, chatters among chatters were soundless to my ears as my senses heightened to deeper levels, and I realized that I wanted to see him.

My irises traveled everywhere from the arrays of snowmen in my school's park to the metallic snowy gate of our school, landing on a couple who were laughing and throwing snowballs at each other so early in the morning. I bit my lip as students passed my vision, my heart sunk when I couldn't find him. It was much windier than before as my loose tendrils stuck itself to the sides of my face.

I gave up on trying to find him and joined the herd as the exhilarated students kept whispering to each other in class with eyes alight and wide smiles, probably reminiscing the winter break, but winter held out a little longer than before in our beautiful Armenia.

In the midst of our English class, he came in with an onyx wolf hoodie that hid his loose blonde curls, at the same time, his eyes gazed downwards when he walked by Mr. Robert that had a disapproving glance towards Asher Brenton, the guy who always got late. Maybe it was the bright brown freckles that littered his cheeks, or his loud silence that differentiated him from the other guys in the class, but as I turned myself to spot him, he stared directly at the teacher with his hands in his hoodie pockets as he ignored my eyes.

My cheeks warmed when the girls caught me and giggled between themselves as they mocked me, I lowered myself on my seat as my attention shifted back to the teacher. The rush that coursed through my body that told my mind to investigate the blonde-haired guy behind me only seemed to intensify and I was clueless as to why I had the burning passion to know everything about Asher.

The class bell alerted everyone that our first course has ended, Mr. Robert was the first one to go. One of the jocks in our school that went by the name Leslie James approached my desk, placed a hand on my table and smirked down at me.

"Fancy ditching the first day with me?"

Leslie James was good-looking with a tanned skin tone and light green eyes. He was popular around here with high ambitions and a great personality, he was everything any girl would want and he used to be in my sister's band before he cancelled to focus on his studies for a chance to land a scholarship to the college he wanted. I knew him ever since I was a little girl, and we were close buddies before his group engulfed him to their team.

My focus went to the retreating figure that had his hood on that accentuated his broad back and I found myself disappointed. The steely attraction to him since day one of my senior year was what made me want to figure him out.

I looked at Leslie with a fake smile on my lips, my brain somewhere else.

I had to find out about Asher Brenton later and what he had to hide underneath his hoodie.