Flecks of Gold Read Free Page A

teachers tell each other when they’re going to give tests so that they can all do it on the same day,” I said. That wasn’t too bad. I’d managed to refrain from gushing, but I wondered why I was even concerned about what I said to Kelson. I didn’t do boys. I would talk to the occasional guy in an acquaintance kind of way, but I’d never been interested in pursuing a boy, no matter how cute—or rather, especially if I thought he was cute.
    “Yeah, I mean, it’s not like I can study all the time,” he said.
    “Hmm,” I said, sorting out my thoughts. Kelson was just a normal person. I could handle this. I’d never let crushes affect my behavior before, but the romantic blue-hued feelings were hard to ignore.
    “Sometimes I wish I were magic and could just stop time long enough to get caught up with everything. Do you ever wish that?” He looked at me intently.
    I started to grin like a loyal puppy, caught myself, and merely curved my lips courteously. I fought against agreeing with him, even though the swirling cacophony in my head wanted to. “I’m actually glad there’s no such thing as magic. The world has enough complications as it is.”
    “Are you sure?” The tide of romantic thoughts receded, and I could almost swear I saw a calculated look in his eyes.
    “So, I didn’t see you in any of my classes this morning,” I said.
    He grinned. “No. What classes did you have?”
    “Chemistry and English.”
    “Oh, well I had P.E., then chemistry. What do you have this afternoon?”
    I checked my schedule. “American government, then art.”
    “Great! I have government too. We can walk together.”
    He kept giving me an intense stare that thrilled and unnerved me at the same time. I needed a break from that intensity, so I told Kelson I had to stop at the bathroom for a minute and would meet him at the stairs.
    I wanted to relax, but I was caught in the most unusual jumble of sensations. Kelson was gorgeous. I felt irresistibly drawn to him, which was what was freaking me out. I was not the kind of person to be overcome by good looks. In fact, I didn’t trust most men as far as I could throw them. Something had overridden my carefully cultivated safeguards, and I didn’t like it one bit.
    As I turned these thoughts over in the bathroom, I remembered the kumquat, still in my backpack. Swinging the bag around, I pulled it out, rinsed it off in the yellowed sink, and looked up into the cracked mirror, scrutinizing myself. I had to have gotten my hair from my dad. No one on Mom’s side had chocolate brown hair.
    As I bit the kumquat, juice squirted onto the corner of the bathroom mirror. A sour taste hit my tongue almost as strong as a lemon, but then sweetness spread through my mouth, leaving behind a pleasant aftertaste.
    The taste reminded me of my confused emotions about Kelson. He seemed so sweet, but there was this indefinable feeling I got around him, like an aftertaste, that I couldn’t tell if I liked or not. But why was I so determined to find something bad in the one good thing that had happened today? I shook myself and went to meet him at the stairs. When I approached, he smiled, and I chided myself for being so suspicious of every man alive.
    We reached American government, and Kelson sat next to me near the back. Despite the teacher’s theatrical outbursts, it was hard to concentrate on the lesson. Kelson’s presence next to me felt palpable, like a firm pressure on the side of my body.
    I was glad to leave that class and head to art. If art couldn’t make me relax, nothing could. The smell of wet clay, turpentine, and paint hit me as I walked in. My shoulders loosened. No one talked to me, but in art I didn’t care. I simply took up a piece of paper and began to draw what the teacher instructed, losing myself in the detail of the skull that sat on the table in front of me.
    Like Mom, I considered myself an artist, but I was pretty sure no one saw their art the way I saw mine. When