Imdalind 01 - Kiss of Fire

and pulled my hair in odd directions so I pulled my hood up in an attempt to hide myself. The steady gusts kept pulling at my hood, causing me to hold it in place.
    The large expanse of grass in front of the school filled up with last-minute stragglers as the morning bell prepared to ring. I walked toward the main entrance wanting to get out of the wind as fast as possible. I had gotten about half-way when a tall figure distracted me, causing me to stop in shock.
    The same, tall blonde man stood just off to the side of the front entrance to the school. He leaned against the building with his arms folded across his chest. He wore a tight fitting, light blue button-up shirt and another pair of strategically ripped designer jeans. Even with the wind whipping against his clothes, he stayed still. His head was bowed and I could just make out closed eyes amid the masses of his blonde hair blowing in the wind. I knew he wasn’t looking at me, but I couldn’t shake that tormented feeling like I was being watched, or as I had put it earlier, stalked.
    I looked away from him and picked up my pace, eager to get into the school. I had forgotten about him after everything else that had happened last night, but seeing him there again brought all that anxiety back. I felt jumpy and nervous as I walked into my first class, French.
    I looked over the room before sitting down, worried that the blonde man had followed me here. My irritation shivered up my spine making me wonder if my paranoia level was becoming unhealthy. I settled in before Madame Armel could begin her instructions in French. I was only in this class for graduation credit, meaning the class was filled with a bunch of freshmen and sophomores, so I tended to sit at the back and blend in more than usual.
    Madame Armel began her lesson on advanced conjugation and I opened my book in a futile attempt to follow along. It was hard to stay focused however; my mind kept wandering. My thoughts jumped from checking to see if the blonde man was around, to worrying about what I was going to say to Wyn when I saw her, and ultimately, to thinking about Ryland. My mind jumped from lip-locked fantasies that made my heart swim and pound, to the thought of his arms wrapped around mine in an intimate embrace sending a pleasurable shiver up my spine. But, I couldn’t think that way. I had promised myself that we would just be friends and that I would leave him alone. But, I was left with a hollow, empty feeling as I shooed the fantasies away.
    The bell rang much sooner than I expected and I rushed out of class, my mind still overtaken by thoughts, worries and fantasies.

    Wyn sat down next to me, cafeteria tray and plastic bangles clanging. She didn’t say anything at first. I didn’t blame her; I didn’t know what to say either. How could I start a conversation after what had happened last night?
    “I’m sorry,” I whispered, much softer than I had wanted too.
    “I’m sorry too,” she answered, her bright voice sounding off against my strained whisper. “If I had known it was such a big deal I wouldn’t have brought it up.” She paused and bit her lip, as if contemplating whether or not to say something else. I looked at her in expectation, but she had decided against it and looked back down to her food.
    I sighed and went back to my food as well. I was glad we had moved beyond it, but the awkwardness still wasn’t over. I hoped I could think of something witty to say that would strike up a bright conversation, but nothing came to mind that I wanted to share. Every thought in my mind was an over-dramatic problem, so I kept them all to myself.
    We sat in a very strained silence through all of lunch, each of us eating our greasy cafeteria food as if we sat alone. I felt an odd gnawing at my heart that I wasn’t sure I had ever felt before. I had ruined everything and all because of the mark. Wyn was right when she told me not to let it ruin my life anymore, except this time, I was doing it intentionally. It wasn’t like Wyn had tried to leave; I sat here trying to push her away, not knowing how to stop myself.
    I turned toward her just as the bell rang, surprised to see her already looking at me. Her dark eyes stared into me, pinning me in place with a look of mingled excitement and fear. She looked like she was expecting something from me; I opened my mouth to answer her unasked question but closed it again, realizing I didn’t know what she was going to say.
    “I