6

~Ali~

I wake up sprawled on the yoga mat with the blanket bunched uncomfortably at my feet, my face creased from a night of rough sleep. I squint in the bright room, the sunlight cutting sharp shapes across the floor through the closed window.

Groggy, I force my body into a sitting position and rake my fingers through my tangled hair. They catch in the fine strands, an unforgiving clump forming between my fingers. Sighing, I give up on my hair and smooth down yesterday's clothes, too tired last night to even change out of my jeans before collapsing in sleep.

The silence muffling our space tells me I wake alone in the room, that much is obvious. The other half of the yoga mat is cold, Jaz's phone is missing from its charger and there are dirty dishes on the counter that were not there last night. I do not know Jaz very well yet but I do know her well enough to realise that she would never wake up a minute earlier than necessary on a weekend.

I stand up and arch my back, twisting all my bones and muscles into movement. I rub the sleep from my eyes and straighten my sleep shirt as I go on the hunt for a glass of water. Half way to the kitchen, with my fingers still poking the corners of my eyes, I stop cold in my tracks. Call me a psycho but I swear my foggy brain just clocked a man in the corner of my vision perched on my desk.

No, I have had this ridiculous psychosis before. It is just my jacket hanging on the back of the chair and my mind thinks it is a man. But I am powerless to stop the instant twist of anxiety in my chest and the sickness that churns in my stomach. I swivel on the spot and shriek at the top of my lungs (yes, I have been reduced to one of those girls) because there, balancing amongst my books and pencils, is a man - a real life man.

I jolt backwards screaming, smacking unintelligently against the wooden cupboards of the kitchen bench in my panic. But the most bizarre thing yet (if there could be something more peculiar) is his utter lack of concern. He is just sitting there, idly dangling his legs, his eyes roaming casually around the room, periodically landing on me before wandering again.

I blink hard, hoping and praying that when I open them again he will have vanished, right along with my bout of insanity. But no such luck. My heart rate spikes and my palms become clammy against the bench top as I become paralysed in place. He looks at me again and my breath hitches, trapped in my throat as if someone has pinched my trachea. Offhandedly, he swipes a blunt pencil from my mug of writing instruments and twists it mindlessly through his fingers as if this was not the most terrifying moment of my life.

When he fumbles inattentively with the pencil, it soon becomes apparent that he is of no imminent threat and I slowly become more curious than fearful. When he does not hold my deploring gaze, I ceremoniously clear my throat, hoping this time he will meet my stare. That is when confusion begins to cloud his calculating gaze as my stormy eyes move unblinkingly from his lucent ones. The pencil is placed gently back into the mug with a dull clink.

"And who are you exactly?" I remark snidely, may aim being to cover my nervousness behind a confident exterior. My voice sounds so obviously fearful to me but I hedge my bets on the fact that this guy knows nothing about me and rather reads my cold body language over the tone of my words.

Despite his gently tanned skin, the colour seems to leach from his face leaving his cheeks an unflattering alabaster. He jumps soundlessly - almost too soundlessly - on to the floor, pointing limply at his chest, as if it was even a question if I was talking to him or not.

"Who else would I be talking to, creep?" I spit and fumble for the metal handle of the spatula discarded behind me. Holding something in my grip makes me feel both armed and helps to steady my shaking hands.

At my words he sinks onto his haunches, raking both hands through his thick head of hair in... what? Is that frustration?

"Are you a mute, too?" I shout, his quietness both a mild relief and highly unsettling. Ignoring my comment, he mutters heatedly to himself, his breaths coming out in a mixture of huffs and drawn out intakes. But at least the intruder has a voice.

"If this is some kind of break-in you aren't doing so good." I am met with an unamused stare in return but something about the lines of his face or maybe the gentle pitch to his eyes that has me releasing the metal spatula.

A thud at the door brings me back to reality and wondering if there is a possible saviour behind it. I slowly back away towards the door, skirting the walls and never taking my eyes off of him. Thankfully he seems too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice me moving.

And then I am there, all away across the room, with the door handle cool under my grasp. As I begin to push down on the handle, so sure of my movements, I falter when I sense rather than see his pleading for silence. But that is ludicrous! And yet here I stand, the handle only halfway open, suddenly indecisive. And that is when I learn that his eyes cannot lie, flooding with earnestness. Label me a fool or naive or gullible because I have already called myself all of these things but that still does not change the fact that something deep within me trusts him.

I quickly twist the handle and swing the door open to two girls standing worriedly in the hallway. They are dressed in their mismatching pyjamas with their tightly braided hair pulled loose in sleep.

"Sorry, we are from next-door and just wanted to check that everything is okay? We heard a loud scream and lots of shouting." The shorter of the two girls peers inside curiously and guiltily I step infant of her, blocking her line of view.

"Oh, um, yeah..." I turn my head inconspicuously to the side and his outline flutters around the corner. I turn my attention back to the girls, their expectant smiles urging me to reveal a little more. "I just had a spider incident but it's sorted. Sorry if I woke you up, I feel really stupid now."

"Oh, phew. As long as you are okay! And no problem, Jessie over here could scream the building down if she saw a spider in our room!" They both laugh at this and I force myself to crack a smile in return.

"Well, thanks for checking on me anyway, much appreciated," I dismiss, waving the girls off back to their room. When their door swings closed behind them, I slam mine closed and lock it shut.

Preparing myself, I face my room again to see it... empty. But like the discerning detective I believe myself to momentarily be, I realise the window is thrown open after I had left it locked over night. It lets in an unseasonably cool breeze.

A piece of paper is pushed off of the window sill by the wind, spinning as it circles to the floor, slipping across the wooden boards and settling by my feet. I pick up the folder paper with jittery hands and unfold the thick parchment.

I can explain. If you want to know more I will be under the willow tree at 2:00pm.

P.S. Happy birthday.

-E

As I finish reading a key is thrust into the lock and Jaz grumbles as she bursts inside. I squeak at her sudden appearance and crush the paper in my palm, stuffing it into my jean pocket.

"Why is the door locked?" She groans, wriggling the key back out of the lock. "Jeez, someone is jumpy today," she says looking at me and I try to laugh away my nerves. When her gaze does not lift from me, I begin to heat under her stare, worried she senses what has happened. I pull a distasteful face, about to ask what is wrong when she breaks out in song, confetti magically materialising out of her bag and throws it across the room, the small rectangular shards of metallic cellophane shining a rainbow across the walls.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALI!" Despite the theatrics (and the now littered floor), I appreciate the gesture and her excited demeanour.

"How did you know? I made a point of not telling anyone," I ask surprised, a grin breaking across my features anyway as I kick the confetti around the floor like throwing around a snow drift and watching it settle around me again.

"You should know by now that I have my ways..." She answers with a devilish reflection in her eye that I just laugh at.

As if remembering something, she suddenly springs over to the cupboard a little too fast, like someone had wound her key just that much too tight. She rifles around until she reveals a large, inoffensive black shopping bag and hauls it over my way, clutching delicately at the gold-ribbon handles. She proffers me the glossy bag and delving inside with a confounded yet stupefied grin, I reveal a large, heavy box wrapped in muted gold paper and secured shut with black string.

"Happy birthday!" she chirps genuinely, the soft-edge that enters her tone bringing an impetuous wave of gratification and admiration to my throat.

I position myself more comfortably on the sofa, the golden wrapped gift taking up almost the entire space of my lap. I try to pluck a combination of grateful words from my mind and string them into a sentence which could express my overwhelming appreciation but Jaz flicks her gaze expectantly to the box and back to me, urging me to just save any words for later. The couch dips beside me as she sits, a hum of nervous excitement buzzing around her.

Without anymore hesitation, I pull off the restraints and tear into the fine paper. The wrapping slips away like the skin from an overly ripe banana and falls gracefully to the floor. Underneath the golden exterior reveals a large cardboard box with 'Popcorn Machine' printed on it in gaudy bubble-letters. I cannot help but giggle and rip away the final scraps of paper that are sellotaped onto the cardboard, smoothing over the colourful box with glee.

"Now we can make popcorn without nearly blowing up the entire building!" Jaz exclaims giddily, only half joking in her excitement.

"Jaz, this is amazing!" I take her into a tight hug and waltz the machine over to the kitchen, tossing the spongey packing-peanuts across the floor as the domed machine squeezes out of the box.

"Don't you even try and ask me where I got it from on such short notice!" She teases.

"Let me guess!" I laugh, holding out my hands to silence her. "You 'know a guy'," I say, using her own words. I display the new machine ceremoniously on the empty countertop, its red belly shining proudly. I unwind the cable on the side and plug it into the socket, coloured lights winking brightly to life.

"It is even better than I hoped!" Jaz exclaims and I smile in agreement, the lights like a dazzling hypnotist. "Alright," Jaz punctuates. "Phase two; there is something else I want to show you." Jaz gestures to the front door, opening it ready for my passing through.

"Where are we going?" I grin and pull a cardigan off one of my hangers, knowing I won't get a response beyond her cheeky tongue-in-mouth smile.

We emerge into the corridor and she slips the brushed-metal key into the lock, closing the door behind us. As the door dead-bolts, a strange shiver rumbles through my body leaving my skin pebbling superstitiously despite the tacky humidity of the hallway. A ghostly pressure sets a myriad of tingles loose across the back of my neck in a threatening chill. I flick my gaze up and down the corridor but it is as empty as it usually is. And then the cold dissipates, my muscles loosening again and the tickling in my head clears like a fog lifting.

Jaz checks the door, pushing against the unmoving handle before she races down the hallway, unsuspecting to my shaken resolve. We ride the elevator to the ground floor, the underlying tension in my bones giving way to interest as the doors ping open. Jaz sets a swift walk out the reception and into the warm sunshine as I trail in her wake. I follow her to the far end of the campus, towards the main sports field, passing by the gymnasium on our way. I run my fingertips along the crumbly red brick of the sports centre, squeaking shoes and muffled shouts echoing from inside.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" I jolt at the sudden, unsuspected shout of several voices chorusing at once. I clutch my chest, which feels as if it has just been shocked with ten thousand vaults as I peer around the corner. Jaz runs ahead of me and places herself amongst Amber, Tami, Kristy, Will and James, who all rush towards me at once.

The girls hug me first, crushing the four of us in a tight huddle as Jaz and the boys look on. When they release me, James is next to approach and he pulls me into a soft but awkward hug as if he does not do it often. We laugh it off and untangle ourselves as Will finally takes his place.

"My turn!" Will sings and for reasons unbeknownst to me, my heart beats faster at his advancing steps. Then his arms coil around my waist, pulling me close and tightening like a boa-constrictor, lifting me from the ground like I was made from nothing but summer clouds. I squeak in shocked delight, steadying myself on his bunched shoulders.

"Jaz, did you organise this?" I ask incredulously when I am dropped back onto the floor, my smile glowing like sunshine and Will's glinting like moonlight.

"We all did! My main role was transporter to make sure you were actually here," she laughs. Jaz walks towards the group and they fall aside to reveal a red tartan picnic mat opened across the grass with a double tiered chocolate mud cake displayed in the middle. Nineteen colourful wax candles are arranged amongst the dark chocolate shavings. James pulls a lighter from his pocket and flicks it to life, dripping bubbles of fire onto each naked wicker.

We kneel around the glowing cake and I fist my hair in a knot at the side of my neck as Kristy pulls out a phone and starts clicking at the camera. I lower myself towards the dancing flames, ready to snuff them out when Amber shouts.

"Don't forget to make a wish!" she interrupts, clapping her hands excitedly.

Trying again I draw in a second, deeper breath and hold it for several seconds, conjuring a wish. What could I wish for? I think, suddenly uncertain when faced with the possibilities only limited by my imagination.

Then my mind begins to change its course, shifting down a road I hardly foresaw it taking. My thoughts flicker to the cryptic boy and the enigmatic note about meeting he left behind this morning. Lasting no longer than a flash, like a face illuminated in the darkness by a bolt of crystal lightning, an image of him and myself, the landscape blurred and unreadable behind us as we lean towards each other floods my mind. My heart hammers away dangerously in my chest and I have the sudden feeling that this note is probably the biggest crossroads I will have to navigate yet. My confusion becomes my muse as my wish begins to evolve into words, webbing together in my thoughts as if my subconscious knows more about what I want than my mind.

I wish that whatever path I choose, I will end up where I am destined to be. I could not tell you how but as I open my eyes and watch the smoke carry my wish away with it, my chest feels as if someone has finally released their hold on it. Everyone cheers and Tami begins to slice the cake with a bendy, plastic knife.

As portions of cake are distributed on sheets of coarse blue paper towel (taken no doubt from the bathroom hand towel dispenser) I sneak a cheeky finger-load of sugary brown icing from the side of the cake into my mouth. We create a ring on the rug, half sitting up and half lying down, chattering happily around mouthfuls of sticky cake. The warm air is silent and our laughs echo off of the surrounding buildings, blending in with the music playing softly from someone's phone.

When the last bite of cake disappears into my mouth, I fall back into the cool grass and watch the clouds drift lazily across the sky, rubbing my stomach satisfactorily. Jaz and Tami are to my right and Amber on my left, watching the sky with me. James and Will sit sit opposite us with Kristy folded in James' lap as he strokes her hair back absentmindedly.

A nag in the back of my mind reminds me of something. But what...? I have the feeling that I am forgetting something and I wrack my brain to figure out what it is. And then I remember my wish. And the boy. And our to-be or not-to-be rendezvous. But deep down I knew I already made my decision the moment I read that note. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I click the home button and read the time; 1:54 p.m.

"Jaz, I have a... meeting at two o'clock. So I have to dash in a second, if that is okay?" They send me away of with understanding nods and I feel only momentarily guilty at my lie.

"Sure, we will clear up in a minute. I'll see you later!" Jaz gives me a small wave and Amber begins to collect the used papers.

"Thanks so much guys!" I smile gratefully at everyone and they hoot back as I disappear down the path that takes me to the main courtyard. At the sight of the willow tree I begin to shake with nerves. I look at my phone again to give my hands something to do. 2:02 pm. What am I doing? These are exactly the kind of situations my mother brought me up to avoid!

I stop just before the tree's stringy leaves and take a final deep breath before I hold a fistful of the soft strands, parting the waterfall of green. Stepping into the willow's glassy shade feels like falling into an eddy on the edge of a raging river.

At first glance the sheltered alcove appears empty; the leaves are still, the small spritz of daisies are silent amongst the thick blades of grass. Even the birds hush their song as if they, too, know that anything louder could break the magic.

And suddenly he steps away from his place hidden behind the tree trunk, seemingly materialising from the rugged bark itself. He waves kindly, even shyly, but that does not detract from his consuming presence. The space around me seems to shrink and he is taking up all the room with that smile.

He steps forward and I tense, contemplating running or fainting; both valid escape plans in my wheezing mind. Then something strange happens. My body begins to unwind, the tension in my muscles melt away like warm butter and the heavy certainty of escape does not seem so desirable. Something about his aura is... calming.

He stands tall, probably a full head over me and his muscle-capped shoulders seem to take up more space than I remember them doing. His hair is long, unruly and a rich burnt blond and his flawless skin glows a few shades deeper than mine. He looks like he is in his early twenties but his expansive ocean eyes have a dark glint to them that hint at many more years.

"I am not completely sure about how to start this. But I guess a name is as good as anywhere. I am Ethan Hamon," he greets with a gentle voice, the soft lilt to his accent making his words sound husky and exotic. He extends a hand to me and it takes me a moment to register he wants me to shake it, the formal gesture so alien in this situation. I grip his hand, lift and drop it in a single, quick shake before he has time to realise how clammy my palms have grown. "I want to apologise for this morning. It is a really... complicated story, you could say," he confesses and shoves his hands deep in his pockets nervously.

Unsure about how to respond, I settle with my name. "Well, I'm Ali."

"Not to sound creepy or anything but I know." He smiles in good nature and it seems to take the edge off of his intrusive assumption. Maybe my initial reaction of stalker was not so far off after all. "But I do apologise, things have become suddenly so out of control. As a token of my remorse I offer you this symbol of atonement." Who even speaks like that? As I focus the larger part of my concentration on smothering my expressions of perplexity, his hands reach around the back of his body and I tense as he fumbles for something. Then he reveals the last thing I ever thought he would. On first glance I think it is a dove feather but I soon realise it is much too small to be from a bird of any kind. Demurely, he holds out the feather between us, its radiance glowing with a soft ambiance and my hand twitches to touch the silken gift.

As I slowly take the token from his grasp his tanned skin flushes pink across his cheeks. Our fingers sweep across each others and a warmth spreads through my arm at the passing touch. I yank my hand back to my side, the feather playing between my fingers as he smirks, eyes cast innocently to the floor.

With his gaze pointed away from my hyperaware body, I take a moment to examine the strange offering. My first thought is that the feather must be some strange cultural tradition of apology from wherever home is for him. The feather is thick and strong, pulsing with a heartbeat of its own. The quill is firm like wire but the vanes are delicate like snowflakes.

"No harm done this morning," I say, breaking the silence I had not realised bloomed between us. "Thank you for your apology." He nods thoughtfully and turns away to leave but he hesitates.

"I hope you enjoy your necklace." And then he disappears just as quickly as he appeared, leaving me with even more questions. I absently touch a finger to the black feather pendant still hung from my neck, hidden deep beneath the folds of my shirt.

Letting the questions ricochet through my mind, I stroll back to my dorm distracted, eyeing the feather curiously and admiring the barely perceptible glow it feeds to the space around it. Tucking the uncanny feather under my arm, I shoulder my way through the door to find Jaz lounging across the sofa, laughing wildly into her phone. I walk lightly to my bedside drawer and tuck the feather inside before she can notice my arriving with anything.

I climb up the few rungs that carry me to my bed and let my head fall heavily onto the pillow, hoping that I can sleep away the dull headache that has taken residence. But my mind is not silenced easily - my thoughts spin circles around Ethan and his uninvited presence and Will and my strange combination of fear and excitement and the feather and they way the two of them have this magnetism about their presence that I am yet to fully gasp.

The springs squeak as I roll over trying to find comfort in my thoughts. I close my eyes and press my head further into the pillow hoping that my thoughts will gather neatly.

I must have fallen asleep eventually because I wake up to a pillow thrown into my face and Jaz shouting that I need to wake up if I want to eat dinner tonight. I crack my eyes open and breathe through a dizzy spell as I sit upright. My eyes widen as another pillow is thrown my way and I knock it out of the way, finally awake.

"Are you coming down for dinner, too?" I mumble and peel the sheets from my legs, brushing the pillows to the side.

"I'm not hungry. I will probably make some toast or something later if I need." She settles herself back onto her bed underneath mine, curling into the corner.

Shrugging, I pull a hoodie on over my shirt and slowly wander down to dinner in the cafeteria, fiddling with my phone as I go. I tap out a message to one of my friends from home as I approach the dining hall when I am knocked back on my feet.

"Ouch!" I cry out in more surprise than pain. Will grips my shoulders as he steadies me and my cheeks flood with apology. His grip is tight, finger tips digging into my collar bones not on purpose, I do not think. Still, I step away strangely uncomfortable.

"Ali! Are you alright?" His eyes cut into mine, the coolness in his gaze both enticing like an ice bath in the desert and chilling like the silence of a graveyard.

"Oh yeah, all good." I do not even realise that my hand has creeped up to my shoulder where a dull ache has settled from his touch. I drop my wandering fingers before he notices. "Are you waiting for someone?" I ask, breaking the anticipatory tension that has grown.

"Yeah, you. Come on, everyone else has already gone inside." He takes my hand in his authoritative one and drags me into the dining hall with him.

We take our place in the line and wait patiently to be served, talking about classes and a little about our home lives, although Will is all of a sudden reserved with sharing information. The line quickly disappears and we gather some food, heading over to a table taken up by the others.

I place my tray down and Will takes the seat opposite me as Kristy asks me how the rest of my birthday has been. I shake the memory of Ethan and I under the haven of the willow tree and smile at her, offering a generic answer instead.

Dinner is short and afterwards I pick my way back to the dorms with Tami since she and I are in the same block dormitories. What Will is doing with us is a mystery.

"What? Two beautiful girls like yourselves cannot be left to walk alone at night," he explains lightly and Tami giggles in response. If today had not been the kind of day it was, I might have laughed too. But I agree for simplicity sake and we wander back.

At my door, I give them each a hug and Will continues with Tami down the hall, passing through the door at the end which leads into another hallway of rooms. Turning towards my bunk, I am surprised to find Jaz on my bed and even more surprised to find her twiddling my feather. My breath hiccups in my throat and for a long moment I feel like I have been caught out. For what? I do not know.

"I was looking for your nail file but I found this instead. Can I ask where you got it?" If I did not know better I would have said her tone was accusatory as she waves the feather in the air. But I guess I do not know better because her tone is accusatory and instantly I know this is no normal feather.

"Someone gave it to me," I reply vaguely, shrugging my shoulders and locking the door so I can hide my face for a moment.

"Did you really have a meeting today after the gathering?" She blurts out implicating me.

So I tell her everything - from Ethan sitting on my desk, about him leaving a meeting note, how he gave me this feather to say sorry for the entire ordeal, how I cannot get him out of my mind and about how sorry I am that I did not tell her sooner - I just didn't know how. Jaz listens tentatively as I ramble, all the while studying my feather with warm curiosity. But when I mention Ethan's name - his full name - the feather droops in her grasp.

"What did you say his name is?" She whispers hollowly.

"Um, Ethan Hamon," I respond, suddenly unsure about if I should have mentioned anything at all.

"How sure are you?" She presses, the feather forgotten on the bed.

"Positive." How could I forget? Every word he said to me, each tilt of his lips and flicker of his eyes has been seared into my brain.

"And he gave you this?" She holds out the feather again as if I could have forgotten.

"Yes," I repeat slowly.

"Oh dear," she whispers and shakes her head gently. Not in a mean way, per se, but one that indicates a complication.

"Jaz, what aren't you telling me?" My voice is skeptical and no-nonsense tolerating.

"Why don't you Google his name, maybe this will help you understand before I say anything." I narrow my eyes, the situation getting stranger and stranger. But I comply and I pull up the Google search engine on my laptop screen, my fingers working slower than usual.

"For once, I didn't want to be right," Jaz mutters as she leans against the back of my desk chair, reading the top hits of my search with me.

What the...