I brushed my blue hair out and glared at my reflection. Blue eyes between dark lashes. I didn't like the color blue. Mostly because it looked so odd on a person. Or odd on someone who had never
dyed it or bleached it. My adoptive mom refused to let me dye it to a normal color because she used to brush it and she loved the soft texture.She told me I'm lucky to have such pretty hair.
I figure I got it from a freaky mom. I wondered sometimes if she went through the same thing. All the teasing and bullying. It even hurt if they forgot my name. Mist. My name came with a letter my birth mom left. It was simple and quick.
I'm sorry, I love you.
I added the little makeup I always put on. Black eyeliner. It made my blue eyes pop out. I've always liked my eyes. They sparkled with mischief and humor but mixed with sadness.
"Mist!" My mom called and I gathered my things for school. I grabbed my skull and cross-bones bag and slipped my textbooks and homework inside before leaving my room.
I descended down the stairs and met up with my adoptive parents. My dad ruffled my hair and my mom gave me a kiss goodbye. I'd had breakfast before getting ready in a pair of faded blue jeans and a tight black t-shirt. I left for the bus.
I'm a fifteen year old junior because I'd skipped a grade. Because of my age and my appearance I'm a social outcast and even the outcasts themselves wanted nothing to with me. I assumed this would be like all the other days with me sitting alone in the back of the bus. But today there was one too many and the only open seat was next to me.
I watched mutely as Ben, the bus driver, and a hooded figure argued. Then, the figure huffed and walked toward me in the back. I scooted away to make myself as small as possible. I was so shy of the figure and I didn't know why.
The person pulled down his hood and Caine Melrose turned to me. I was shocked speechless. Caine is my school's local heart throb and everyone loves him. He smiled at me. I had to question his sanity.
"Your Mist, the smart girl in my grade." He said and I nodded. It was all I could manage.
"You're Caine." I mumbled as he looked at me expectantly. I turned away figuring that would be it. Then he asked me a question.
"Is that your real hair color? I'd heard rumors."
I looked at him mutely. Then, I picked up a lock of my blue hair, "Touch it." I said shyly. He complied hesitantly. His fingers stroked it once. His eyes widen.
"It's so soft." He said and continued to touch it. I nodded. "Like heaven." He continued.
"My mom said I can't ever dye it or anything because it is natural and she's afraid of damaging it." I told him.
"I can see why."
"I think it's weird," I said. I was beginning to feel weird. My body felt cold and hot at the same time and I felt a blush rise. My complexion's pale so I hate when I blush.
I studied Caine as he continued to stroke it. He had pretty emerald-green eyes and brown floppy hair. He was tall and well muscled, which showed even with his baggy hoodie. He smelled nice, too. Like sandalwood. Caine shook his head.
"I think it's cool." He said. My blush deepened. Did he really mean it?
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