Eyes are the window to the soul, as we were told.
I never really believed when people said that. The eyes I had grown up seeing were always ice cold. I learned how to make my eyes cold, too. It took a few years, but it was worth it. I didn't have a bad childhood, I swear. My parents were just emotionally distant and always away. There are disadvantages to having well-off parents.
My father was a businessman, and my mother was a famous actress. To say their relationship was strained was an understatement. There were no romantic gestures between them. I was conceived before they married, and I think that was just supposed to be a fling that got too much media attention. They understood that I needed a "stable" home, though; they got married.
I got used to it, eventually. The reason I was so cold.
I still had friends, sure. I just was distant. They knew that.
No matter how well-off my parents were, I still went to public school. It was purely by choice. I was tired of the constant feeling of being suppressed. So, I convinced my parents to let me go.
That was two years ago.
I am now a junior in Oaks High School. It's about halfway through the first semester. My friends are doing good, being part of the GSA has helped with their anxiety a lot. Only one knows about my family. Rose Attains.
Wandering the halls, I flipped through the book in my hands. It was something assigned in class I wanted to finish as soon as possible.
"River!" I heard Rose call out. I froze mid-step. She jumped on my back and made the both of us fall over. She groaned as I pushed myself up, still reading. "Help me up!" she wined.
"No, you're the one that made us fall."
I rolled my eyes and grabbed her wrists, pulling her up. We started walking together.
I finished the page I was on and shut the book.
"Did you hear about-"
"You're not setting me up with anybody."
"How did you- I mean no... why would I ever-"
"You do this every time there's a new student. No."
The truth is, I've already met him. The new kid was in my psychology period. We had started talking about how our eyes conveyed everything- windows to the soul.
Like stated, I didn't believe in that.
Have I mentioned I hate meeting new people? This new kid is in like, half my classes. It's pretty annoying.
I walk home. Commonly known fact by the friend group. They were texting me about joining the local theatre. I always said no. I couldn't do that- my mother is a famous actress. No way would my parents let me do live theatre. I was listening to some indie pop. Bad idea, I know. Apparently the new kid did too; he pulled me back just as a car drifted past me. My earbuds flew out.
"Don't you think that's a bad idea?"
I've never heard his voice before. It was... strange.
"It is a bad idea. However, I do not care."
"Mhmm... can you let go of my backpack now? It's uncomfortable, and your knuckles are turning white."
He hastily let go of my bag. We sat on the curb. I noticed a dark leather book clutched in his hand.
"What do you write?" I asked.
Short and vague. I wouldn't talk to him if it wasn't awkward, but it was. We were waiting for traffic to pass- we seemed to be going in the same direction.
"Let me guess, about love?"
This is going to get annoying.
"Sounds fun," I started, standing. I knew a different way. Continuing, "I don't believe in that. Either way, see you tomorrow."
I started walking off. He was suddenly beside me.
"What do you mean?"
I wasn't going to explain myself to a dude I just met. Just a curt goodbye, and a skill I had developed over the years: how to disappear.