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But before I know it, I’m at the door There’s a tinyin it, but I can’t see the back of the classrooht now, if he’s indeed there

I close my eyes

Make a friend, and stick by him ‘til the end

I push through the creaky door, then open my eyes

Sitting at that back table is Vann, today wearing a loose black t-shirt that nearly hides his frame, compared to yesterday’s more fitted shirt, and no leather jacket (Maybe he took it off and left it in his locker?) His black jeans are torn at the knees, bunched up at the shins atop those same military-style boots, one foot of which is kicked up on the leg of the table He’s staring down at the table where he appears to be scribbling away in a notebook, frowning and pensive, his short dark hair a spiky mess, some of it pressed to his forehead haphazardly

He’s here He’s actually here

A girl behind me politely clears her throat, and I realize I’ve stopped in front of the doorway I e my feet to take me down the aisle As I slowly approach the back table,htless and numb

Then I drop ontoeyes and held breath, like I’ to happen

Vann continues to focus on scribbling in his notebook, with no see intention to talk

After a minute passes, disappointment heavies my chest I put et out a pencil, resolved to enduring this class, silent and unsatisfied

UntilIt’s a drawing of a , artful horns protruding from his head like a crown and sixhis, and a chain whip hanging from his clenched fist, the end of it set afire Well, a colorless fire, since it’s all sketched in pencil In ter In ter

In terms of beauty: it’s exquisite