She doesn’t look at the picture again, but continues to look at me and says, ‘You must know it’s brilliant.’
‘It’s OK … I can’t get the tarmac right.’
She laughs, but stops abruptly when I glance at her. ‘I’m not laughing at you. It’s great.’
I look at the picture again. The bird isn’t bad.
‘Can I have it?’ she asks.
What?
What would she do with it?
‘It’s OK. That’s a stupid idea. It’s a great picture, though.’ And she sweeps her own drawing up and walks away.
From then on, Annalise contrives to sit next to me in art and to be on the same team as me in phys. ed. The rest of the school day we are split into graded groups. I am in all the lowest ones and she is in all the highest, so we don’t see a lot of each other.
We are in art the following week when she asks, ‘Why don’t you look at me for more than a second?’
I don’t know what to say. It feels like more than a second.
I put my paintbrush in the jar of water, turn to her and look. I see a smile and eyes and honey skin and …
‘Two and a half seconds at most,’ she says.
It felt a lot longer.
‘I never thought you’d be shy.’
I’m not shy.
She leans in close to me, saying, ‘My parents said I shouldn’t talk to you.’
I do look at her then. Her eyes are sparkling.
‘Why? What did they say about me?’
She blushes a little and her eyes lose some of their shine. She doesn’t answer my question but whatever they said doesn’t seem to be bad enough to put Annalise off.
Back at home that evening I look at myself in the bathroom mirror. I know I’m smaller than most boys my age, but not a lot smaller. People always say I’m dirty, but I hang out in the woods and it’s hard to keep clean and I don’t see what the problem with dirt is. Though I do like it that Annalise is so clean. I don’t know how she does it.
Arran comes in to brush his teeth. He’s taller than me but he’s two years older. He’s the sort of boy I imagine Annalise would like. Handsome and gentle and clever.
Debs comes in as well. It’s a bit crowded. She’s clean too, but not like Annalise.
‘What you doing?’ she asks.
‘What’s it look like?’
‘It looks like Arran’s brushing his teeth and you’re admiring your beautiful face in the mirror.’
Arran nudges me and smiles a frothy smile.
My reflection tries to smile back and puts toothpaste on its brush. I look at my eyes as I brush. I have witch’s eyes. Fain eyes are plain. Every witch that I have seen has glints in their eyes. Arran’s eyes are pale grey with silver glints, Debs’ are darker green-grey with pale green and silver glints. Annalise has blue eyes with silver-grey shards in them that twist and tumble, especially if she is teasing me. Deborah and Arran can’t see the glints and neither can Gran; she says it’s an ability few witches have. I haven’t told her that when I look in the mirror I don’t see silver glints but that my black eyes have dark triangular glints that rotate slowly and aren’t really glints at all. They aren’t shiny black, but a sort of hollow, empty black.
Annalise’s brothers, Niall and Connor, have blue eyes with silver glints. They are also instantly recognizable as O’Brien brothers by their blond hair, long limbs and handsome faces. I avoid Annalise at breaks and lunchtimes as I know if her brothers see us together she will be in trouble. I hate it that they might think I’m afraid of them but I really don’t want to cause trouble for Annalise and in this huge school it’s easy to avoid people if you want to.
At the end of the first month it’s drizzling that fine misty rain that quickly covers your skin to let you wash yourself clean. I’m round the back of the sports hall, leaning against the wall and considering the alternatives to an afternoon of geography when Niall and Connor turn the corner. From their smiles it seems that they have found what they are looking for. I don’t move from the wall but I return their smiles. This is going to be more interesting than the Mississippi Delta.
Niall starts with, ‘We’ve seen you talking to our sister.’
I can’t understand when or where but I’m not going to bother asking and I give him one of my ‘so what’ looks.
‘Just keep away from her,’ Connor says.
They both hang back looking uncertain what to do next.
I almost laugh, they are so inept, and I don’t say anything, wondering if that is it.
It may well have been but then Arran appears behind them and blusters in with, ‘What’s going on?’
As they turn to him they change. They’re not afraid of Arran and they’re not about to let him see they have been a little cautious with me.
They say, ‘Piss off,’ in unison.
When he doesn’t, Niall advances on Arran.
Arran holds his ground, saying, ‘I’m staying with my brother.’
The bell marking the end of lunchtime starts to ring and Niall shoves Arran on the shoulder, saying, ‘Piss off back to class.’