6Falling from the sky is a very unlikely event, and even more unlikely that you would be alive to tell about it, presuming you could even get up there in the first place. But happen it did; and since then, nothing has ever been the same-not for me, or for the boy who fell from the sky.
But you know what's even more unlikely than someone falling from the sky? It was someone falling from the sky twice. They were different people, mind you, since anyone who falls from the sky would doubtless be hesitant to try it again.
I was ten. I liked to play outside, even if I did get tired easily. A dark shadow loomed over me, and I looked up in surprise. It was a hot-air balloon. I had never seen one before, but I stared in wonder at it. And then another one zipped into view. And then another. And then another. They all flew in out of nowhere, and disappeared to nowhere as well. But I remember that a boy fell from the very first one. It was the highest up, and the boy just came tumbling out of nowhere, landing curled in a ball at my feet.
He uncurled and grinned at me sheepishly, probably wondering how to explain. His facial features were different than normal boys, but beautiful. I couldn't see his eyes, covered by a thin black cloak. His skin was creamy and pale, his pink lips delicately shaped. His hair peeked out form under the hood. He was probably only a year or two older than me.
"Don't tell anyone, okay?" He asked, putting a finger to his lips. I nodded, surprised by his urgency.
"Thanks." He gave me a peck on the cheek, and ran down the street, never to be heard or seen from again.
The mysterious hot-air balloons disappeared as well, zipping out of existence. I was only ten, so I wasn't all too educated about science, but even I knew that it was impossible.
I had run inside that day, intent on asking my parents what the balloons were. However, when I got inside, the television was already blaring with the news of the phenomenon. Apparently, the hot-air balloons hadn't only appeared in our state, but the rest of the country as well. My parents were engrossed by the strange event, and I never really did get any answers as to who that boy was, or what had really happened.
But it happened again. Today. Five years later, I was still thinking about that boy, and where he had come from. Something was just not quite right. I was sure that I had seen him fall, and yet I couldn't tell anyone. They would think I was crazy.
As I walked to school, pondering the question I had asked myself a million times, a dark shadow loomed over me.
Glancing up, I saw the hot-air balloon once again. I gasped and moved away a little, in case another person fell from it. There were more balloons, zipping around like frantic sparrows. I looked on in wonder. But, this time, things were different. The hot-air balloons dispersed and touched down in different directions, far away enough that I couldn't spot them when they sank beneath the treetops.
The closest one was probably about five miles away. I ran in the direction of the hot-air balloon, completely forgetting about school. I sped off the main road and tore through the forest, taking a direct route to the balloon.
What is the boy was there? What if there was someone who could tell me what was going on? Would I finally get an answer?
However, I had also forgotten that I was physically challenged, and stopped after about half a mile, panting heavily.
"Who's there?" A voice sounded from behind me. I whipped my head around to see a guy dressed in a black hoodie and dark jeans. I couldn't see his eyes, but his features were delicate and beautiful. He had creamy, milky skin, and perfectly shaped lips. His nose was defined and smooth. He reminded me of the boy from before, but I could tell they were not the same person.
"M-me." I stammered, before realizing it was a stupid answer. The guy stepped closer, until he was close enough to touch me. I wanted to back away, but I felt paralyzed, mesmerized by his every movement. He lifted his head and made eye contact.
My breath caught in my throat. His eyes were a beautiful mint green, a color I had only associated with markers and paints before. It was an almost unnatural color, at least for human eyes. His black hair was messy and all over the place, but it managed to stay out of his eyes. The weird thing, though, was that the ends of his hair were mint green as well, the exact same color as his eyes.
"What happened to your hair?" I blurted out without thinking. He probably wouldn't appreciate my lack of politeness, but I really wanted to know. "Why are your eyes that color? Where did you come from? Do you know anything about those balloons?" I fired off the questions rapidly, confused and feeling as though he had something to do with all this.
"Careful." He warned, eyes gleaming and dangerous. "Curiosity killed the cat."
I swallowed. He didn't exactly frighten me, but I could tell he was someone you didn't mess with. I could defend myself against most, but this person… he wasn't like most.
"I was…born this way." He hesitated before continuing. "I'm Primo. Who are you?" I stared blankly. Primo? What a weird name.
"Doesn't that mean like first in Italian?" I asked, with an accusing tone to my voice. He scowled.
"Yeah." From the level of his voice, he wasn't going to discuss this any more. "Who are you?"
I crossed my arms. "I'm Sybil." I didn't like my name. When I was younger, I had considered changing it when I was an adult. But I decided it would be too much work so I slowly became accustomed to it.
"That's weird." He commented. "I'll just call you S." I scowled.
"Well…nice meeting you, S. I have to go." He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to walk away.
"Wait!" I grabbed on to his arm, determined to find out more. "Where did you come from?" I might have imagined it, but I thought I saw panic flashing in his eyes.
"I'm not sure." He answered hesitantly. I frowned.
"Do you have anywhere to stay?" I asked, concerned. He might've been beautiful, but he looked tired and beat up. He shook his head. I felt bad for him, not knowing where he came from. I gave a small tug on his sleeve.
"Come on," I said gently, turning towards a trail path. "You can stay at my house for a bit." His eyes widened, but he didn't resist as I dragged him to my house.
I know. I'm crazy. Why am I dragging this boy, this boy named Primo, to my house when I had just met him five minutes ago? Why am I telling him he could stay there? Why did I care?
Answers, I told myself. I just wanted answers.
But somehow I felt that wasn't all.
My parents were still there, watching the news. I caught a glimpse of the hot-air balloons on the screen. I mouthed to Primo, "Wait here." I left him at the front door.
"Mom, Dad?" I approached my parents hesitantly. They looked up at me from the couch.
"Yes, Sybil?" Mom asked, smiling. "Oh, did you get caught up by one of the balloons? Oh dear, you'll be late for school and-"
"Mom." I cut her off. "I, uh, found someone in the forest. He doesn't-"
"He?" My dad was the one who cut me off this time. "It's a boy?"
I fidgeted. "Yes…?" I offered hesitantly. "He doesn't know where he came from. I was hoping you'd let him stay a bit, until he can find some other place to stay."
"Absolutely not!" Dad said, looking surprised. Mom seemed slightly softer.
"Who is he?" She asked.
I shrugged, realizing this sounded very suspicious. "I don't know. His name is Primo."
My parents looked very, very surprised. "Primo?" They chorused. Their eyes were practically bugging out of their heads.
"Bring him here." My father commanded. I blinked, confused, but obeyed and motioned for Primo to walk in.
He stepped inside; hands in his pockets, and something like recognition in his eyes.
"Hello." He said, staring serenely at my parents. If they looked surprised before, they now looked like they were in total shock.
"Crown?" My mom blurted out. What?
Primo looked slightly taken aback, but nodded. "Her son."
My mom swallowed. "Of course, honey, you can stay here as long as you want. Anytime."
…What had just happened?
Primo bowed. "Thank you."
I was utterly confused, but I'd get answers later. Right now, I needed to get to school.
"Okay, thanks, Mom, Dad. I need to go to school now, so take care of Primo and stuff!"
I rushed out the door, then remembered something and dashed back inside, digging through the drawers in our cabinet.
"I have to got to school, but stay here. Use this cellphone if you need to." I tossed Primo my old phone, and added him as a contact. He caught it and nodded.
"Don't do anything weird." I warned. He rolled his eyes, but nodded anyways. Feeling relieved, I snatched up my book bag and sprinted to school.
When I got to school, the administration gave me a pass. Apparently, a lot of students witnessed the phenomenon and got sidetracked or stuck in traffic. I would be the former.
Slightly winded, I slid into my seat as second period started. The day went on as usual, only I wasn't paying attention. My thoughts kept wandering back to Primo, and the mysterious boy who had fallen the first time. Was it possible that Primo had also fallen? Maybe, but I hadn't seen it. Plus, he claimed he didn't know where he was from. If you ask me, it seems unlikely to forget that you fell out of the sky.
After lunch, I stopped by my locker, only to see that a boy was already leaning on the locker next to mine. I sighed, and opened my locker, shuffling papers and pretended not to notice him.
"Hey, Sybil." He started smoothly. "Want to come to the football game with me tonight?" he grinned cockily. "You can watch me lead my team to victory." I rolled my eyes and swatted him away.
"No thanks, Chris. Not interested." His eyes widened, presumably because he was the most popular guy at school, and no girl would ever dare turn him down, even if they didn't like him. They would go with him, so they could raise their social status and be seen with a hot guy. Ew. Thanks, but no thanks.
Besides, I knew why he was asking me. I didn't find myself attractive, but some other people did. But he could have the attractive girls. He only wanted me because I didn't like him, and to him, it was a game.
"Oh, come on. Any girl would be lucky to have me." He smirked.
"No, and that's final." I slammed my locker shut, turning away to go to my next class. He sneered.
"They're right. You are weird." I whipped around, eyes flashing.
"No, I'm not. I'm just a whole lot more real than everyone else here." I snapped back around and continued on to my class before he could figure out what I meant.
At the end of the day, I sat on one of the picnic tables right outside of the school, waiting for my mom to pick me up. My phone buzzed, signaling that I had received a text message. I glanced down, expecting it to be from my mom, but it wasn't. It was from Primo. I clicked on it frantically, wondering if something might've happened. But the question he asked was even stranger than some sort of accident.
What's the Star? He asked. I frowned, and typed back,
It's my favorite café. A lot of people go there after school. Why? And how did you know about it? I only had to wait a second before he responded.
Your mom told me that you could take me there today. Can we go? He replied.
I tilted my head curiously. He wanted to go to the Star? Well, I didn't have any homework today, so I supposed so…
Sure, I guess. Why not? You'll have to wait until I get home, though, and then we can walk there. I answered. I frowned again. I didn't have a backpack today, since it was the first day of school, and it seemed like a waste to go home and then to the Star, since it was really close to the school.
No need. Walk down the street. He typed back. What? I bit my lip, and got off the picnic table, stepping off the curb. I walked all the way down the street, and turned left. There, casually resting against the fence, was Primo. He had somehow gotten regular clothes, instead of his entirely black attire, which had made him look rather suspicious.
"Hey." He greeted. "Which way to the Star?" I gawked, wondering how long he had been there. I quickly recovered and pointed in the opposite direction from which he had come.
"Okay, let's go then." He grabbed my hand, and practically dragged me down the street. He was strong and swift, and I could barely keep up.
"Hey! Wait…a…second… I am physically challenged!" I said, in between pants. He slowed to a stop, and then glanced curiously at me.
"That's stupid. You can't even run six blocks without stopping?" I put my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. I ignored his comment, and instead started to slowly drag my feet towards the Star. He followed at a leisurely pace after me.
When we arrived, he yanked me back before I could enter the doors.
"What?" I asked curiously. He pointed at my face.
"You look really weird because you ran so much." He pointed out bluntly. I rolled my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair, combing out tangles. I wiped my face on my shirt.
"Can we go now?" I asked impatiently. "Besides, it's not my fault you're freakishly athletic." He pouted, before opening the doors and gracefully sliding in. I followed, sighing. He was different than other guys that I knew. For one, he didn't try to impress the girls he saw. He stated everything bluntly and without tact. He didn't hide anything.
I glanced at his calm, emotionless face. He didn't try to act cool, either. There was definitely something different about him. With a start, I realized he was a bit like me. He didn't pretend. He was just himself.
A group of popular kids from school were chatting in the middle of the café. The Star was a cozy, elegant café designed to be like those kinds in Paris. Their hot chocolate was delicious, too. However, when we walked by, all conversation stopped. The girls eyed Primo like he was a piece of delicious cake. One girl, wearing a tiny spaghetti strap tank and shorts way too short, strutted over and stroked his arm.
"Hey," she purred. "What's your name?" He brushed her hand off and replied,
"I'm Primo, and please don't touch me." The girl raised her eyebrows and smiled sweetly.
"Oh honey, playing hard to get, are you? I love guys like that." She batted her eyelashes at him.
"What's wrong with your eyes?" he questioned innocently. "Is there something in them? I guess you could rub them, but then all your makeup would probably smear…" I had to restrain myself bursting out in laughter, especially since I could tell Primo meant every word. He wasn't even trying to be mean, and he had dissed her with a few words! Her mouth hung open, and he tugged on my sleeve gently.
"Come on, S, I want to try their hot chocolate. It's a special." The populars' eyes followed us, speechless. I smirked. Yeah, Primo sure was different.
We walked to the counter and ordered hot chocolate for both of us. He took a sip, and his eyes widened. He examined the drink.
"This is delicious." He announced. "Can I take some home?" I laughed and bought some hot chocolate packets, so that we could make it when we got home.
Speaking of which, was Primo already referring to my house as "home"? I studied him curiously. As I did, I realized I honestly couldn't blame the other girl for trying to hit on him. Primo was seriously cute. Not only that, but he was beautiful as well. His features were unique, and he could've been a professional model with his creamy skin and delicate lips, as well as his mint-green eyes. And his body wasn't bad either. He was a little above average height, but not freakishly tall or lanky. He wasn't too skinny or fat either. Nor was he one of those people with huge, scary muscles. No, Primo was just right.
I didn't trust that about him. Perfect people are always hiding something.
He caught me staring, but only tilted his head in question. I shrugged.
"It's nothing." I told him. "Let's go." He nodded, and threw his paper cup away. He offered a hand, to hold the plastic bag that contained the hot chocolate packets. I handed it to him, and he took it wordlessly. I was tired, and couldn't go any further at about ten minutes away from home, so he just picked me up and slung me on his back, giving me a piggy-back ride home. I fell asleep, so I don't remember clearly, but I think he might've said something…
"You're different." He whispered.
When I woke up, it was about an hour later. Primo was sitting cross-legged on my bed, across from me. He was reading a novel out loud. Was it…Great Expectations?
"Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but-I hope- into a better shape." The way he spoke the words made it seem as though he had experienced it before. Suffering, I mean. I didn't sit up just quite yet. I wanted to know what other quotes he would find. He flipped through the pages, and stopped to read another quote.
"I am what you designed me to be. I am your blade. You cannot now complain if you also feel the hurt." His face etched with sorrow, he flipped the pages again. I sat up drowsily.
"What are you doing?" I yawned. He smiled and read a line from the book.
"Ask no questions and I'll tell you no lies." I laughed and took the book from him, randomly opening it up.
"We changed again, and yet again," I read. "And it was now too late and too far to go back, and I went on. And the mists had all solemnly risen now, and the world lay spread before me." I laughed. "That must be what it feels like to fall from the sky." Primo cracked a smile.
"Yeah, probably." He agreed. I looked up, and my eyes met his startling mint-green orbs.
"What?" He asked, observing my staring.
"You have beautiful eyes." I noted, not feeling the slightest bit awkward. Primo wasn't that kind of person. He shrugged.
"Thanks. You do, too." I groaned and fell, eagle-spread, in his direction.
"What are you talking about? My eyes are brown. What's so pretty about that? It's so ordinary." He hovered over me so that his face was above mine. He shook his head.
"That's not true. Your eyes aren't just brown. They're more like chocolate-caramel swirls. Like melted chocolate." I laughed.
"That's just a poetic and fancy way of saying my eyes are light brown." He shrugged.
"You don't have to believe me, but that's what I think, anyway. I don't lie or sugarcoat. It just creates a bunch of confusion." I grinned up at him as he snatched the book from me.
"I have not bestowed my tenderness anywhere. I have never had such a thing." He read softly. I rolled over, onto my stomach, staring into his eyes.
"You say that like it's true." I whispered. He just nodded.
"It is, kind of. People are all the same, even if they try hard to be different. But in doing so, they're not themselves anymore, and simply pretend to be someone else." He shrugged. "Obviously, there are exceptions to this, but usually those people are mean and cruel, not pretending because they simply don't care. Every person I've met is so typical. Maybe it's just me overthinking this, but I keep wishing I could meet someone who's completely different." We gazed at each other, coming to an understanding. He was completely right. That was how I had felt my entire life. People pretended, people lied. People were selfish, greedy, and always had to get what they wanted, even if it meant hurting others.
I gently stole the book back. "To my thinking, there was something in him that made it hopeless to attempt to disguise him." I laughed again, and pointed to the line. "That's you right there. You practically spew the truth. You're too candid. Don't you know what tact is?"
"No." he replied bluntly, sliding the book out of my hands and placing back on my bookshelf. "I think I'd like to write my own quotes." He commented, taking out two pieces of paper and two pencils. "Help me brainstorm." He ordered, handing me a piece of paper and a pencil. I rolled my eyes, but took it. We sat in silence for a while, thinking. My pencil began to doodle absently across the paper, until I realized that I was actually writing something.
Falling from the sky, with those mint-green eyes, if you are you, then who am I?
I frowned and erased it. What was I writing? Primo hadn't fallen from the sky. It was impossible that he had. I was just being weird.
He chuckled. "Check this out. We hate the world for our mistakes, but it was so simple. We're the ones who twist it around.
I smiled. "I like that. It's short and sweet, and true, too." He pumped his fist in the air. "Yes!"
All of a sudden, he fell back onto my bed, right in front of me. I was still lying on my stomach, so my head ended up hovering right over his face.
"I'm tired." He announced, and shut his eyes.
"Wait, Primo-" I started, but he was already fast asleep. How did he do that? And what exactly had he been doing during the day that exhausted him so much? Maybe I shouldn't have asked him to carry me home.
I glanced at my clock. It was 9 o'clock. I closed my eyes as drowsiness overtook me, and I curled into a ball, drifting into oblivion.
Read and Review! ~Sea