Both Saturday and Sunday went as they usually did. After dinner, I would throw on sweatpants and a hoodie and prepare for a two hour jog.

I only went during the sunset, when the sky rotated to a beautiful glowing pink, with swirls of orange or yellow. As my legs would carry me, the sunset would fade into darker colors, and eventually it would settle on the darkest. The stars would pop out one by one, or the dark clouds would appear in the sky, blending in with the rest of the mind-boggling midnight beauty.

On Monday, I was looked at with pure confusion. Some students thought I was new because I looked that different.

"Poppy, is it?" A girl with pink hair asked, a coach bag in her hand while her other manicured hand twirled a lock of hair.

I nodded, and her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

That's how it usually goes, I thought.

I memorized the way people reacted to my verbal absence. At first, confusion. Then they would get mad because they would think you're ignoring them. Then it would move to annoyance, and eventually they would leave.

This cycle only happened four times, each individual already faceless in my memory. If they really wanted to be my friend, they would make the effort of not judging. Clearly, they didn't care that much.

"Why don't you talk?" She asked.

I shrugged casually, and we stared at each other for exactly sixteen seconds until she walked away.

That happened in the morning, and now I was sitting in Mr. Lee's class, mindlessly jotting down notes as the quiet chatter of students echoed around me. I was oblivious to the rest of the world. Everything else was just noise, besides Mr. Lee's voice. His voice was the only thing I could hear.

Mr. Lee kept glancing at me. I debated on whether or not it was just a figment of my imagination, but it couldn't be. I saw the way his eyes moved to me. I saw the dark blue exquisiteness in his eyes, even from where I was sitting all the way in the back. My head dropped on my folded hands as my pencil lay beside me, and my heart thumped in the silence of my little trance.

Should I smile at him? Should I nod? The next time he looks at me, should I lock eyes or look away like I usually do? The possibilities could go on for decades.

Before I could decide, a loud sound echoed not only throughout our classroom, but throughout the school.

"Lockdown, I repeat, this is a lockdown. Please remain in an unseen area in your classroom until further notice." The speaker above the classroom door sounded, and then for exactly a minute, an alarm shrilled violently.

"Left side of the classroom. Now." Mr. Lee ordered sternly.

Everyone listened to him and headed to the left side of the classroom, myself getting lost in the crowd once again.

I had no idea what was happening. I'd never participated in something like this before. I slowly stepped toward the left side of the classroom as the students eyed me with judgmental orbs, each individual looking me up and down, as if inspecting me. A student had flicked the lights off and my vision turned dark.

"Are you gonna move or what?" A girl asked, someone I didn't know at all. Her voice dripped with amusement.

"Mr. Lee, why isn't she moving?" Another student spoke. I was too involved in a distorted daydream to recognize whether or not the student was male or female. Laughter sounded from the students, but it was all fuzz to me. I was scared in my spot, helplessly looking at the chuckling students with their looks of pure distaste.

There was no where for me to go. All of the spots on the side of the classroom were already taken, and squeezing in next to someone I didn't know would be the end of me. I already felt my panic attack arising deep within my chest. I wanted to explode. I wished Vera was in this class with me.

It was then that a large hand grasped my wrist and grabbed me, shoving me against the wall in the back of the room, just out of view from the door.

I looked to my side, and there he was. His hand was still on my wrist, and the feeling itself was a burst of heated energy that coursed up my arm and into my chest, spreading like a lustful wildfire.

"These are what we call lockdown drills. We stay away from the door and we keep quiet until we are told to proceed back into class. It happens every month." He whispered close to my ear, his fresh and minty breath wafting around my face, clouding my sanity.

I nodded and leaned my head against the wall, closing my eyes and forcing myself to focus on something other than the fact that he still didn't let go of my wrist. And I didn't want him to let go. Ever.

He didn't even notice that he was holding on. His gaze was directed at the other students, every minute or so shushing the chattering loud-mouths. His warm palm pressed against my wrist and his long fingers wrapped around the rest of it, all of which was shaded by a desk. This connection was unseen by the other students, and part of me seemed to get excited by that idea. But this wasn't appropriate. He probably looked at me like a student with a disability, hence the reason he grabbed my wrist with such force. In a way, it was a disappointment. Technically, I did have a disability.

Slowly and as un-awkwardly as possible, I reluctantly removed my wrist from his grip and let it drop limply to my side. And we both stood there and the other students sat there on the ground, everybody as quiet as possible as seconds and then minutes passed. I listened to his tiny breaths, and I was sure he heard mine as well. Mine weren't exactly quiet.

"The drill is now over. You may return to your class. Thank you for your cooperation."

Someone flicked the lights back on and students started slowly returning to their seats. Mr. Lee and I were the only ones still in our spot.

Mr. Lee looked at me while I looked back at him. His jawline was unbelievably well-structured, and his glasses at the bridge of his nose made him look so wonderfully intelligent. His eyes flickered to different parts of my face, which caused my body to shut down and my hands to uncontrollably shake.

Mr. Lee cleared his throat. "Sorry," he muttered, moving past me and making his way back to his desk as I stood, continuing to stare into nothingness.

I blinked a few times and shuffled back to my own seat, where the rest of the class went on uneventfully. The bell signaled the end of the period and I hurried away without a goodbye. He probably didn't notice, anyways.

Instead of going to lunch, I headed straight to Mr. Garcia's office. I needed some time to think about what just happened.

"Hello, dear," he said as I stepped in and shut the door behind me. I whipped out my pencil and pad, plopping down in the leathery chair in front of his desk. I should really think about knocking next time. There could be other people in here. I dismissed the thought and dropped my backpack next to the chair.

"Why are your cheeks so flushed? Are you alright?" Mr. Garcia asked.

My hands instantly flew to my cheeks. Were they really that flushed? They sure felt like it.

I wrote on the notepad.

I am fine. Do you mind if I stay in here until practice? I promise I won't be a bother.

"Sure," he responded. "Behind my desk there is a bookshelf and a chair in the right corner. You can sit there if you want."

I nodded thankfully and made my way to the chair. Mr. Garcia went back to his work, writing down whatever it was that he was writing, taking a few minutes out of each fifteen minutes to take a sip of his coffee.

Time passed and I remained in the seat, studying the floor. I studied my fingers, my tan, tiny fingers. I studied my small wrist, and I touched it lightly, wishing I could replay the way he touched it. It was incomparable; the way I touched it and the way he touched it. It was as if he had some kind of magic deep within his bones. I wanted to feel that again. I sighed and curled up into a ball in the chair, using my backpack as a pillow and my sleeves as a blanket.

When it was time for practice, I lazily gathered my things until Mr. Garcia spoke.

"By the way, your new look is very eye-catching. I love it." He said while smiling. Instead of searching for a reaction, he continued back to his work as if he hadn't said a thing. I smiled to myself and headed out of his office, my cheeks heating up once again from reality itself. Had Mr. Lee noticed my new look? The thought hadn't even occurred to me.

I pretended that he did notice it. It made everything a lot better.