7

I stuck out my hand.

"Nice to meet you, Hayden," I said, my eyes narrow as he shook my hand sheepishly.

"If you could show him around the school, the technology block and the music centre, that would be good, thanks. Oh, and here's his schedule. Could you show him all his classrooms, please?"

I took the document from Mr. Green's hand and nodded politely, "Sure."

"Oh, and you can skip the morning lessons, here's a pass if anyone asks. But you must go to period three, okay? If you could show Hayden to his period three classroom as well, and maybe stick by him for the next few days, I'd really appreciate it."

"Okay."

"Right, I'll leave you in Dawn's capable hands, Hayden. See you two later," Mr. Green said, and left us alone.

"Dawn-"

"You could have at least told me, Hayden."

"I wanted it to be a surprise," was his excuse.

I rolled my eyes, "I would have liked to know."

"I'm sorry," he said.

I softened. "It doesn't matter, it's no big deal. Come on, I'll show you the music block first."

He smiled and followed me outside, to the music centre. I showed him around the small building, then the technology block, before leading him back to the main building. Strolling through the hallway, I pointed to my right. "Over there is the canteen. If you want, you can eat with me and my friends at Lunch. I'm warning you, though, we're a group of girls," I laughed.

He chuckled deeply, his chest rumbling. "That's alright with me," he winked.

Taking my time, I led him through the school, pointing out his classrooms and the different departments of the school. "If you ever get lost, go to the ground floor for the Languages and P.E. departments, the first floor for the Humanities and Science departments, and the second floor for the Maths, Art and English departments. In the technology block there is also the Business Studies department, and in the music block there is also the Drama department. Got it?"

He paused, then nodded slowly. "I think so," he said.

I pointed to my left, "That's the assembly hall. Your form room is on the top floor— it's next to mine in the Art corridor. I'll show you."

I took Hayden upstairs to the second floor and told him to be quiet as I hovered outside his form room; inside, a group of year seven students were being taught to use watercolours.

"When the first bell of the day rings, you need to be here for Registration. After Lunch, you come back here for Afternoon Registration. Understand?"

"Yup," he replied.

As I took him downstairs to the canteen again— since the bell signalling that it was Break was just about to ring— I looked at him sheepishly. "Don't expect me to introduce you to anyone outside of my friendship group. I'm not really the biggest socialite," I admitted.

He laughed, "Don't worry, I can make friends on my own. I'm not expecting you to know people in my year, either."

I nodded, "Okay...um, good."

The bell suddenly rang, and I ushered Hayden into the canteen as a herd of hungry students came racing down the hallway. "You want to eat something?" I asked him.

"Trust me, it's rare that I don't want to eat something," he grinned.

In a sudden spout of confidence, I grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the food, the dinner ladies staring at us with boredom.

"Pizza is my favourite!" I announced to him, and grabbed a slice of pizza in a tissue, waited for him to get one too, and paid. He followed me and sat down at my elected table beside me.

Hayden hummed in appreciation, "Wow, this pizza is actually pretty good."

"I told you," I smirked. It was then that my friends decided to make their entrance. They all pulled up chairs, surrounding Hayden; seemingly oblivious to the sudden attention, he continued to eat lazily, casting my friends a cool smile.

"I'm Caitlyn," were the words that broke the awkward silence.

"Hayden," he replied to Caitlyn, causing a rose to bloom in her cheeks.

"This is Macy, Sheila and Indie," Caitlyn introduced, gesturing to our other three friends.

"Hi Macy, hi Sheila, hi Indie," Hayden replied politely, and I squirmed at the awkwardness of the situation. Indie surprised me, though, by failing to blush when Hayden focussed his gaze on her.

"You look familiar. Do I know you?" Hayden asked her, furrowing his eyebrows— yet he wore and amused smirk.

"No, I don't think so," Indie responded, a knowing smile plastered on her face. Macy, Sheila and Caitlyn continued to stare at Hayden's admittedly luscious body, but I frowned at the exchange between Hayden and Indie, confused. What is going on?

"So, Hayden, I hope Dawn hasn't bored you too much," Sheila suddenly teased, but it hit me hard. Did my friends think I was boring?

Hayden looked at me, concerned, as though worried if I was upset by the comment. "No, actually she's been the opposite," he said, maintaining eye contact with me.

"What was that supposed to mean, Sheila?" Macy demanded as Caitlyn crossed her arms over he chest.

Sheila regarded us, staring at us individually as if we were crazy. "Calm down, guys, it was just a joke."

"Stop showing off," Caitlyn cut in, narrowing her eyes.

"What is wrong with you? I said it was a joke. I didn't mean anything by it."

"It doesn't matter," I cut in. "Let's just move the conversation on."

Macy glanced at me, wearing an angry expression. "No! Look, Sheila, I put up with you making fun of all of us to our faces, I put up with your ridiculous gossiping and I put up with your constant snotty attitude, but seriously? Putting down one of your only friends to show off for a boy? That's low. Even for you."

Everyone was silent. I was shocked.

And suddenly the girls burst out laughing.

"You should have seen your face!" Caitlyn— her eyes on me —cried as giggles erupted from her throat, "You looked so horrified!"

Hayden, who had been watching the whole exchange in interest, burst out laughing when he noticed my expression.

"What the hell?!" I exclaimed.

Macy, between giggles, explained, "We thought it'd be a fun way to break the ice."

Hayden nodded praisingly, enthusiastically facing me. "I think I like them," he grinned, "they keep me on my toes."

I had to agree.

>>

During Lunch, I texted Mum to tell her that I'd be walking home with a friend. She wasn't so keen on me walking home, considering what happened last time, but she swung round when she discovered I wouldn't be alone.

After school, I met Hayden outside his classroom— I couldn't count on Hayden to find his way to me without getting lost— and we made a quick run to our lockers before heading home. I couldn't believe that he only wore a thin jacket when I felt like a sumo wrestler in my fleece, thick waterproof coat, wooly hat and scarf, and panda mittens.

"I'm telling you, you look adorable," Hayden insisted when I complained about my attire.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, "Look at me! I look like I was dressed by Barnaby the Bear. If it wasn't so freezing I wouldn't be seen dead in this. And I don't understand how you aren't cold. You should have hypothermia," I suppressed a shiver, glaring at Hayden, "I hope you get hypothermia. It's not fair that I have to look so ridiculous when you look like that."

"Like what?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked at me.

"Goddamn you," I muttered, making him laugh. I shook my head angrily, stuffing my hands in my pockets, "Do you have invisible fur or something? Or super powers? Because that is not normal."

He shrugged, "I have a naturally high body temperature."

"'High body temperature' my ass," I mumbled. "I bet you're on drugs."

Throwing his head back, he let out a deep, slow laugh. "Come on, I think I'm just special."

"I think you're just on steroids or some shit," I mumbled, making him chuckle and wrap his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him. I relished his warmth— he was like a human radiator. "Jesus, you're hot!" I exclaimed.

He grinned and held a hand to his heart, looking sincere, "I'm so glad you finally noticed."

I whacked his chest. "Shut up, crackhead," I hissed, jealous of his body heat.

He pinched my waist, making me squeal. "Come here, I'll warm you up," he winked.

I huffed and rolled my eyes, but snuggled into him anyway. I couldn't deny that his body was radiating warmth that I desperately wanted for myself. We walked the rest of the way in silence— it wasn't awkward, though, it was comfortable. We were both so immersed in our own thoughts that we accepted our wordless companion's company wholeheartedly.

When we reached the end of the long lane that branched off into our driveways, a thought occurred to me.

"Hey, do you want to come in?" I asked Hayden.

He looked mildly surprised, then nodded happily. "If that's okay," he said.

I grinned, "Come on," and pulled him up my driveway. When I reached the front door, I pulled out my keys and let myself in, dragging Hayden in with me.

"Is that you, Dawn? How was your-" Mum stopped and blinked in astonishment. "A boy?" she questioned, wide-eyed. I slapped my forehead with the palm of my hand, sighing.

"Hi, you must be Dawn's other sister," Hayden grinned and stuck out his hand, making me cringe even further. Thankfully, Mum just laughed.

"Don't try that one on me, mister. I'm forty-one years old, and I know I look it," she teased, shaking Hayden's hand.

Hayden shrugged sheepishly, "It was worth a shot."

"Are you staying for dinner?" Mum asked excitedly.

"Oh, h-"

"I wish I could, but my own mum happens to be a very ambitious cook and I've been ordered to be home for 'Japanese Night'," Hayden declined humorously, cutting me off. "I say 'ambitious', but that doesn't mean she's good at it."

Mum chuckled, "I get it. Dawn's grandma was the same. Well, shout if you need anything."

I smiled stiffly and jumped in, grabbing Hayden's wrist and dragging him towards the stairs. "Yep! Thanks Mum!" After leading a curious Hayden upstairs and down the hallway, I opened the door to my bedroom and flicked on the light, inviting him in.

"I like it," he grinned. I shrugged and flopped onto my bed, looking out of the window directly across from me.

He walked gingerly over to my desk, fingering the small stuffed animals sitting atop my computer monitor. Behind the desk was my art wall. I wasn't allowed to paint or draw on it, to my disappointment, but I was permitted to stick posters and pages up on it. Although I couldn't paint a huge mural on the wall, like I wanted to, I had found an alternative.

"This is amazing," Hayden gasped, reaching out to brush my creation with his fingertips.

I had drawn small, insignificant patterns on A4 pages— textured shapes that were abstract and nonsensical when on their own. But I had stuck them to the baby blue wall in a specific way so that they all overlapped slightly, and all the lines met, forming a big, fluid shape. A tree.

I liked to call it the Tree of Life. I'd drawn fruits hanging from the branches, chestnuts and pinecones and cherry blossoms blooming between the leaves; I'd drawn lizards and monkeys sitting on perches, birds hiding behind twig nests, insects crawling on the bark— I'd even detailed in an inconspicuous snake slipping between the foliage. I wanted to show how, despite the outward beauty of something, there was always a betraying feature, something that made it imperfect, which is what the snake symbolised.

And what was most appealing— to me —was that everything was in black and white. Everything was there, truthful, for the keenest of eyes to pick out the secrets.

"Thanks," I murmured, my eyes scanning over my artwork.

"Have you got any more of your drawings?" he asked, watching me eagerly.

I froze, my mind whirring. Could I? Should I? And in a moment of what I could only describe as insanity, I reached under my mattress, pulled out my sketchpad, and handed it to him.

He opened it immediately, his eyes devouring page after page hungrily.

After a few minutes, I became uncomfortable; I didn't like my subconscious being so on-display to his gaze.

"Okay, that's enough," I said, standing up. But he didn't seem to hear me. I narrowed my eyes. "Hayden, give it back."

"Just a minute," he murmured, scanning my artwork.

I fidgeted, edging towards him and clearing my throat. "No, now, Hayden."

He swung the book away from me slightly, and that was the last straw. I ripped the sketchpad away from him and slammed it shut after finding it open on the page displaying the mysterious wolf across the road.

I shoved it under my mattress and glared him. "You  just seriously invaded my privacy," I said simply, crossing my arms.

He looked apologetic, "Dawn, I-"

"No! I don't think you understand. In that book— in those drawings —is my heart and soul, Hayden! My soul. I pour everything into my art, all of my feelings, all of my thoughts, everything! So when I say 'give it back," I mean: give. It. Back!"

He stepped towards me, holding out his hand, "I'm so sorry, I rea-"

I stopped him with a wave of my hand; I was embarrassed, and vulnerable. Everything was in that sketchbook, even him. "I think you should go home now."