The World Beyond the Mirror - 1. Skittles

School again. The same old math class, but in reverse week so it was just before lunch, the same boring room, but finally a new topic to learn. I only glanced out the window a few times, and never for long, but nothing caught my eye. Class passed quickly with the new material to focus on, and the teacher gave me a happy smile as I walked out, assuming that my good mood was due to taking his advice. I smiled back and waved, not disillusioning him. I’d slept less than usual, not more, since last Friday, when I’d made a confusing new friend. My curiosity had been killing me, and I’d spent more time than I was willing to admit finding excuses to hang out at the park. I’m already really fit, but with the amount of jogging through the park I’ve been doing this weekend, I’ll look like an Olympian before next time I meet him. I smiled at the thought as I made it to my locker, and when I’d put my books away I grabbed a bag of skittles and headed over to the park before any of my friends could corner me. Something told me he wouldn’t be as eager to talk if there were other people around, and I could understand why. After seeing his eyes, I knew there were definitely things about him most people would never guess. It might make it dangerous for me to be around him, but my curiosity crushed any vestigial sense of caution I might have felt. I’d never been a particularly careful person, even when my curiosity was sleeping.

I jogged the kilometer to the park easily, and I occasionally popped a skittle in my mouth as I ran. I went straight to the bench from before, but it was empty, so I started to run laps around the park in the route I’d perfected that took me past that spot as much as possible. When I’d done near ten laps, probably half a kilometer each, I sat down on the bench for a break. I ate another skittle and toyed with my necklace as I thought.

He never told me a time to meet him here, I considered. Maybe he assumed I’d be back during fourth period again?

I decided to skip fourth, which would be gym this week, and come back here just in case. I held my necklace firmly in my fist as I made the decision, and then I tucked it back into my shirt and stood to continue running. I popped another skittle in my mouth and started off on my route.

After a few weeks of this, I’ll have worn a trail in the dirt, I thought sarcastically. The scenery entertained me for another two laps, but I was quickly becoming bored as I came towards my second pass of the bench for the third kilometer. As I turned the corner, I saw a familiar form sitting on the bench, staring at the ground, lost in thought. He looked up as I jogged towards him, and he nodded to me with a faint smile on his face. I nodded back, my smile more than matching his, and jogged past. I wanted to complete this lap before I sat down. As soon as he was out of sight, I felt slightly nervous and regretted my decision to finish the lap. He was hard enough to find already - what if he wasn’t there when I came back? I jogged faster, and I relaxed as I made it back to the bench to see he was still there. He didn’t look up this time, but I didn’t mind as I sat down next to him.

“Hey,” I said, feeling calm now that I’d finally found him again. He gave me a nod, and his lips curved slightly again.

“Do you have to build up to being talkative again?” I asked, gently teasing.

He snorted, smiling, and looked at me. He tapped his throat and shook his head, but I completely missed whatever he was trying to tell me as I noticed something, and surprisingly it wasn’t his eyes, orange again, that threw me off this time.

“Your burn!” I exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. “It’s gone!”

He nodded absently, obviously more interested in getting me to pay attention to his sign language. I focused on that, deciding to ask about the burn after. I’d already seen his eyes changing color, so why should it surprise me that a serious burn disappeared after three days?

He saw that I was paying attention to him again, and he tapped his throat and shook his head.

“You won’t talk?” I guessed, curious all over again.

He nodded, smiling faintly again.

“OK, that one was too obvious,” I laughed. “Try to explain more.”

I offered him some skittles, and he took one, smiling in thanks, and put it in his mouth. He frowned a little bit as he chewed it, and I laughed at the weird look he gave me when he swallowed.

“You’ve never had skittles before?” I asked, incredulous.

He shook his head, looking confused about why it was a big deal.

“I’m sorry,” I told him seriously. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but your life has been shit. You’ve never tried skittles?”

He snorted again, shaking his head in amusement. I held out the bag, and he took another skittle, examining it before he ate it. I watched, mesmerized, as the bright red candy passed between his light pink lips. I let his eyes pull me away from his lips, so I wouldn’t stare, and I saw they’d turned to a muddled brown. I looked away, forcing myself to shift my attention from his eyes. He didn’t want to talk about it, so I’d respect that.

“Why can’t you talk?” I asked, curious.

I turned back to him, and I saw him open his mouth as if to speak. Nothing came out, and he closed it again, a slight red tint appearing in his eyes for a second. He considered for a minute, and then reached over, putting his hand on my stomach. My breath hitched, and I tried not to let my breathing speed up. He looked at me, trying to get me to understand something, and then pressed his hand into my stomach, not quite hard enough to hurt. I grunted involuntarily, and he tapped my throat with a smile. I frowned, trying to figure out what he was getting at, and he grabbed my wrist and moved my hand to his stomach. It was hard under my touch, and I could feel his warmth through his shirt. He nodded, indicating I should do what he’d done, so I pressed my hand in. His lips parted, but still no sound came out. He looked at me questioningly, and frowned again as he realized I didn’t understand. He reached out again, gently touching my throat, and then snapped his fingers. Then, he touched his own throat, and made the motion of snapping his fingers, but without the sound.

He’s already told me he won’t talk, so he must mean something more by this, I thought.

“You can’t talk?” I guessed. “It’s more than just a sore throat?”

He nodded, giving me a small, relieved, smile before looking down. I started as I realized he was looking at my hand, which was lingering on his abs. I pulled my hand back, blushing and trapping it firmly between my knees. I could still feel the warmth of his stomach against my skin, and I looked away from my hand, meeting his eyes again. They were a purplish blue now, and he was looking thoughtful again, probably trying to figure out how to explain more.

“Can you mime how you lost your voice?” I asked, hopeful.

He just gave me that slight smile, his eyes turning blue.

“Fine,” I sighed, knowing he wouldn’t say anything. “What can we talk about, then?”

His finger tapped my chest.

“Damnit, I walked right into that,” I commented.

He looked at me steadily, reminding me how much he’d let me learn about him already, and I sighed.

“What do you want to know?” I asked, resigned.

He smiled wider, happy that I’d answer his questions, and tapped my chest again before pointing at the ground and miming confusion.

You, here, why, I translated, and he held up one finger to indicate the first time we’d met.

I shrugged. “I needed a break from school, and this is the only park I knew about. I picked this bench 'cause it’s more private than the others.”

He mimed confusion again, asking ‘why?’ and looking unsure if I’d be offended.

I gave him a small smile to let him know I didn’t mind. “It was a boring day, and someone reminded me of something I’d rather forget.”

He watched me, not responding, and I looked down uncomfortably. He wasn’t asking, but I felt the need to answer. I stared at my hands, and my mouth opened, words pouring out on their own.

“It was my parents,” I said quietly. “They died when I was three. Someone wanted to know about my life at home, and it reminded me of them. The memory’s still a little bit raw.”

I felt him touch my shoulder, offering support, and I gave him a small smile that I knew probably didn’t reach my eyes.

“Sorry,” I said, embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have told you that. It’s more than I’ve ever said before. I don’t want to bitch about things that are over with.”

His touch on my shoulder became more firm, thanking me for trusting him with it and consoling me.

I looked up at him, and he looked frustrated that he couldn’t talk. His eyes were really pink, with a little bit of purple and a tinge of red. I watched them, enthralled by how often they changed and how many colors I’d seen already.

“I’m a little bit glad that you can’t talk right now,” I admitted, not really listening to what I was saying. “I don’t think I could have told you that if you’d been able to speak, and it felt kind of good to get it off my chest.”

He gave me a faint smile, and to my surprise, he pulled me in for a hug. His body was strong and warm against mine, and I found it extremely comforting.

Last time someone hugged me was…

I hugged him back, forcing my mind off that train of thought. We stayed like that for a minute, and I let myself enjoy the warm sense of security I felt. When I finally pulled back, I was surprised to see that for once his eyes hadn’t changed. They were still pink, with the same slight tint of purple. He gave me a small smile, and I returned it, thanking him silently. He touched my shoulder again, and I saw more than just compassion in his eyes. He understood. I had to blink rapidly, and he squeezed my shoulder gently before letting me turn away and get myself under control.

When I was composed again, I checked the time and saw I had to go soon.

“I’m gonna have to leave in the next few minutes to make my bus,” I told him sadly.

He nodded, looking disappointed. I realized that he’d be alone and unable to speak to anyone, and I felt terrible.

“Do you want to come back with me?” I asked. “They don’t like it when we use the bus as a taxi, but they won’t protest.”

He gave me a thankful smile, but shook his head.

I nodded, disappointed even though I hadn’t really expected him to accept. I couldn’t picture him on a school bus, or at the house, for that matter. I looked at him again, trying to figure out where I could picture him, but I was distracted by a shallow cut that was just visible under his sleeve. It looked new, but he pulled his sleeve lower, grimacing. I recognized the action, and I realized it must be the other wound, that he’d mentioned last time.

“If your burn is healed, then why isn’t that?” I asked, curious and a little bit alarmed.

His face went blank, but some orange and red crept into his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s OK.”

He gave me another smile to show he wasn’t angry at me, but this one was forced, and the new additions to his eye-palette remained. It wasn’t me that was bothering him, it was the topic.

I knew I should leave now, so I didn’t have to sprint to catch the bus, but I couldn’t leave him on this note.

I pulled him in for another quick hug, and he was smiling when I released him.

“Thank you,” I told him, standing up.

He smiled, and when he met my eyes this time, his were mainly blue, with some pink and green, and a little bit of purple. I held my hand out towards him, and he hesitantly took it, confused. The confusion disappeared, replaced by amusement, when he realized I was handing him the half-full bag of skittles.

I smiled at him and nodded goodbye, and he gave me an almost-smile and a wave as I started walking away. I had to jog to make it in time, but again, I didn’t mind at all.

I sat on my usual bench, watching the path he’d taken long after he was gone, a faint smile on my face. Eventually, I looked down at my hand, closed protectively around his gift to me. I slowly opened my fingers, looking at the bright green bag, and hesitantly reached in, taking out one of the strange tasting pebbles. This one was pink. I smiled, deciding it was appropriate, and put it in my mouth, chewing experimentally.

I could get used to this, I decided, closing my hand around the bag again with another smile. I stood, and after a longing glance at the path he’d taken, I turned towards my calling.