Once Upon a Tear Drop

Hidden_Love · Jun 24, 2004

This is a story about a teeneger named Ezra Macaw(Ezra is a a girl by the way) who is struggling with keeping Jesus number 1 in her life, and having feelings for her best friend. A little juvenile I know, but it's good, and has a really good message (one that the youth of our time need to learn).

It's also inspired by Harry Potter. I don't agree with that series, though I have watched the movies. It's a nice alternative, seeing as Christianity is being way to comprimised. They all live in a boarding school in France, it's a private school.

Isaac White=Harry Potter
John Lubbock=Ron Weasley
Jessica Lubbock=Ginny Weasley
EzraMacaw= Hermione Granger
Micheal Giordano=Draco Malfoy
Craig Lars=Crabbe
Blake Angelo=Goyle
Mr. Stevens=Proffeseur Snape
Mr. Reepa=Dubledore
Mrs. Ferrier=P. Mcgonnogal
Katrine DeVour= Lavender (whats her last name?)

I haven't read any of the Harry Potter books, so I don't know any other charcters, so all of the rest are my own.

There are no chapters, only Ezra's journal entries.

Well, I've been rambling long enough, so without further adue, here are Ezra's first two entries!

Rebekah vanEttinger

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dsf (Dear Silent Friend), December 12

Have you ever felt yourself losing a battle you knew you couldn’t ever win? Have you ever watched yourself as if you’re outside your body, and wondered why you were still fighting? Have you? Well, I guess you haven’t. It’s hard to explain to you, but I’ll try my best.

The world around me is crumbling, the walls are breaking, and the dam is breached. I pass through the halls of this school everyday, and try to blend in with the faces; every joke that is told, I laugh at, every secret spoken of I giggle. My face is plastered with a smile, but my eyes leak their own secrets. The castle that we live in here at Beaux de Province's School of Christianity, is my home away from home, and finally, it has broken. Not on the outside, but on the inside. The threads of friendship have been stretched to their limits; bonds are tried, loyalty is broken. I am the only one who feels this way, but for a different reason.

I am afraid that my growing torment inside is transparent; my friends have always been able to read me pretty well, but one especially. He is whom I am afraid of. When he looks at me with those piercing emerald eyes, I feel naked and exposed. What if he ever found out? My torment keeps me away from him; I can’t help to avoid him. I must, after all, because I am afraid that if I don’t, I’ll tell him. Then I would be laughed at, scoffed at, and mocked. He wouldn’t understand. And even though I don’t understand why I am doing this, I know it’s the best thing for both of us.

At dinner, his emeralds stole away my appetite, and my heart cracked. My friends ask if I am all right, and I lie to their concerned faces. I can’t help but lie. How can I explain that every time those eyes come my way, every time that gentle smile shines, I lose control? I break from the inside, and yet, I feel my mind melt into oblivion?

I couldn’t stand the stares any longer; I couldn’t handle the whispers. I ran. I ran out of the dining hall, and to the common room. Tears sprayed across my face as I ran, my emotions wild. And though my feet ran blindly into the door, they were no match for his. He had followed me, and tried to make me tell him what was wrong. I would not, and when the pain and hurt flashed in his eyes, the chips that were breaking off of my heart echoed in the silence. He begged me to release my secrets, he said he would understand. How can he be sure he will, when I don’t even know what these emotions are? Breaking free of his strong grip, I ran into my dormitory, and here I am sitting on my windowsill.

As the tears are rolling from my cheeks, my heart seems so fragile. Why am I crying? The words I want to say, need to say, will not come out. He’s too perfect, too goodhearted to know my faults. He doesn’t need me, doesn’t want me. I am here, alone, with no friend I can turn to, but the one above.

And as I stare at the moonlight , at the taunting man in the moon, my prayers are floating up through the night shy.

Slowly, I feel the peace of Jesus flood through my body, and sweet words are whispered in the stillness.

*~+~*

Dsf, December 14

My studies are keeping my mind at peace. In my books I hide, because only there can I really be at peace. The history books are windows, and through those windows, I find that the real world doesn't exist. He doesn’t exist. My emotions, my thoughts...my breaking heart; there are no such things when I am reading. People always ask me why I devote so much of my time to studying, but I merely shrug. Little do they know, I watch the girls playing volleyball on the court, and the horseback riding and I feel so secluded, but I will not go. It’s too dangerous, I will dream about him. I do not trust myself out there, where my fantasies will run wild and free, because then my dreams will cease to exist once reality comes crashing through my world. The reality that I am just a child, a plain, bushy haired little girl who plays make believe.

I see him now, as I perch on the library windowsill. He’s tall and lean compared to the other boys around him. I watch as they gather on the soccer field to practice, and I know that that is where I really want to be. Playing with him, watching his eyes dance with joy as he scores a goal. But I can’t. I can’t stand to be so close to him, and yet feel so far away. I know he will never think of me that way. Not me, Ezra Rachel Macaw. He treats me as an equal, as a lifelong friend. He doesn’t even see me as a girl.

His raven hair is ruffling in the wind, but something is missing off of that familiar face. He seems distracted and solemn. Passing the ball to another teammate, he catches my eye for an instant. I look away, as my heart hammers. Even here I get sidetracked from my work. In the one place I thought to be at peace, those eyes, and that smile haunt me. The book I was reading looks very inviting, and I think how nice it would be to drift off into the land of kings and queens of old. But as much as I try to read, I can’t. I look toward the green field and watch as the practice session hit’s its peak. The boys are running in and out of cones and obstacles, dodging one, and finding themselves in the path of another: odd that I find myself doing that very thing.

The essay that is due in a month sits finished in my hands. I am weary of hiding in the shadows, I am tired of scaring away from life. And I am exhausted of these thoughts that are killing me. Why am I sneaking late at night to read in front of the grand fire? In hopes that maybe I will drift off to sleep, and wake up to find that this is all just a nightmare. But I know that is not true, and that I am being a wimp; I am afraid of risk, and afraid of the thing that everyone must go through.

Girls all me lucky to be so close to him, but I am cursed. Cursed to have feelings for the one person in the world that I should not. Cursed to be forced to sit in the library reading book after book just so that my feelings will not drive me insane. And cursed to know that no matter how much I...I...feel for him, he could never feel the same for me.

The tears are coming down again, and this time, my heart’s dam has finally broken. Each tear brings more, and each sob cries for another. Through all this pain I see the answer does not lie in myself, but within the arms of my Savior.

~*~

Hidden_Love · Jun 26, 2004

Hey all!<><

Well, no one's replied yet, but I'll give it some time. Anyway, here's the next two journal entries, so knock yourself out.

~*~

Dsf, December 15

The fire is crackling beside me, and its yellow haze is warm and inviting; much like the arms of him. My thoughts are fleeing back to this morning, when he confronted me.

The dining hall was filled with noise, but I did not notice. I was staring off into the sky, riding on a daydreamer’s cloud, thinking about my predicament when my thoughts were interrupted

‘Ezra!’ John said, waving his hands in front of me. ‘Are you going on the trip to La Mounde’s beach with Isaac and I?’

Dread flooded my senses, and I felt Isaac’s eyes on me. ‘No,’ I said, searching for an excuse, any excuse not to go. ‘I-I think I’ll stay here and read in the library.’

John stared in disbelief. ‘The library!!! This is a once in a lifetime event, and you would rather spend you time in that dusty old library!!!’

John looked over at Isaac, but Isaac just shrugged. “Isaac! Say something! She listens to you!’

Isaac looked over at me, and quietly asked, ’Ezra, will you come scuba diving with us?’ I found that my voice was gone when I tried to speak to him, as I watched his emerald eyes flicker with hope. ’I’m sorry,’ Tears were threatening to roll down my cheeks, and I looked away.

‘Why won’t you come?’ John asked exasperatedly.

‘I-I just can’t alright!’ I said furiously.

‘Sure you can’t. You want to run away from us for God-knows what reason, and hide.’ John’s voice had risen many octaves, and now we were the main attraction of the morning. ‘This isn’t like you Ezra, and I don’t like it!’

My heart was breaking fast, and I felt little pieces break off and fall into that empty abyss. Isaac just stared quietly at me, his eyes pleading for me to go. How could I when those eyes haunted me every night, when that voice lingered in my dreams? And how could I go without this constant growing emotion in the pit of my soul driving me insane? The answer was simple. I couldn’t; the very thing I wanted was the thing I was afraid of. The arms that had held me so long ago during our past adventures seemed to torment me, and make me realize how incomplete I felt, despite my Lord inside of me. I would not go, and as much as it pained me not to, I knew I had to if I wanted to save our friendship.

With tears steadily falling, I looked toward John. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered again. Then I ran out, like I did the other day, but not to my dormitory. I ran to the soccer field, where I had once played. That very place where Isaac, John and I plotted against Michael Giordano in the first year of junior high.

Junior High...we were all so carefree then. Merely twelve years old, and pleased with our friendship. But now we are older, fifteen, and I feel so old. One of the reasons for not attending the scuba diving trip was that I am scared of it. Terrified is a better word. I don’t know why I am, and I don’t enjoy it.

The cold December air was chilling me to the bone, and my haggard breaths were coming out in little

white puffs. My hands were red and cold, and my nose was numb from the icy remains of my tears. I knew it hurt my friends that I didn’t stay with them anymore, and it is hurting me too. But how can I be in the same room with Isaac and know that whatever I feel for him is false. Whatever happens between us is just accident, we aren’t meant to be. And most importantly, we are too young. Too young for serious feelings, too young to be worried about the distant future.

As I looked at the field I felt myself floating in memories. I had scored the first goal of the season, but I had also broken my arm in the same game. I could see Isaac running towards me with a teacher or two, each clucking their tongues, and poking me. But Isaac just smiled and offered his hand, and walked me to the nurse. This is where he also confessed his crush on Samantha O'Neill in eighth grade. I could feel my heart constrict with pain as I remembered how happy he looked when he was around her, and also how crushed he had been when Samantha told him he wasn’t worth her time. But now when I see those times in my mind’s eye, I realize that it is not worth the heartbreak. If I ever felt strong feelings for someone, I would wait it out until I found out if it was true or not. And it was killing me.

Footsteps sounded, and jerked me from my reverie. Isaac came up beside me, carrying a sweater.

‘I thought you might need this,’ he said.

I thanked him and took it into my hands, and pulling it over my cold shirt. We stood beside each other for a while, neither of us speaking, but I was sure I was the only one of us with a hammering heart.

‘Ezra?’ Isaac said after a minute. ‘Can I ask you something?’

I shrugged, still trying to hold myself together and failing miserably.

‘Why do you not like scuba diving?’

Squinting in the sunlight, I tried to come up with an answer that wouldn’t leave me like the quivering fool that I was. ‘I don’t know. I think I’m afraid of sharks.’

‘Think? You think you’re afraid of sharks?’ Isaac sounded skeptical. When I didn’t answer, he sighed. ‘Ezra, something’s wrong. I don’t know what, but I do want to know.’ I sucked in a deep breath. ’Why have you avoided me? Why do you run away when I come near? What makes you so...’ he searched for the words to say. Afraid? I asked silently. ‘..Afraid?’

The questions he was asking me I had all asked my self. I didn’t know the answer either, but I did know that if I ever found out, he would never know. ‘I don’t know,’ I whispered, fighting the tears. It was torture to stand next to someone and not be able to touch him. To be talking to someone, but not able to communicate. Torture. To know that I was being silly, acting like the child I once was, and not able to tell anyone. I was pleading for the chance to explain, but afraid that it would come out wrong. There was only one choice: to run. Run away from my fears, run away from the temptation. For at the time, that was all I knew how to do.

~*~

Dsf, December 15

Sorry I ended so abruptly. Katrine DeVour, my room mate, came down to talk to me about our Biblical Studies homework, but it was all just a diversion so she could try to squeeze my secrets out.

‘Ezra, I was just wondering,’ she said in her sugar coated voice. ‘How exactly do you fell about-’ she looked around. ‘You-know-who?’

I knew what she was talking about, but I did not allow myself to get caught in her snare. ‘No, I don’t know who.’ I said coldly, hoping she’d get the idea that I was better to be left in peace. ‘Now, please excuse me, I have End Times homework to do.’

Katrine rolled her pretty dark eyes. ‘That’s bullocks Ezra, and you know it! We all can see that Isaac cares about you. He’s worried about you Ezra. Can’t you see how he looks in the mornings? Poor thing hasn’t gotten any sleep lately.’

I boiled with anger but held my tongue. ‘Isaac does not care about me.’ The wrenching of my gut made me wince, and my lip quivered. ‘ Now please, I have some homework to do!’ I pushed past her and ran up the stairs into my room.

Hope tried to rise up inside of me as Katrine’s words echoed in my mind. In truth, he did care about me. The time I was lost in Paris, and he snuck out and came looking for me, or the other time where he just barely missed a bullet aimed for me, in the slums of London. Or the time when he was sick with the flu, but aided John and I in helping a new teacher out of trouble. And he even showed he cared by the little things he did. Like giving me smiles when I was feeling blue, and talking to me when I had a hideous stomach virus. Yet despite all those things, I was stubborn. I tried to smother those feelings, because I don’t want to believe them. I can’t possibly believe it. He only did those things because I’m his friend. And friendship, though a nice thing, is not the only thing I want. But sadly, we can’t have all that we want.

And now that I’m sitting here, in this silent retrospect, I am glad that I did not go on that trip. As the night lives on in it’s beauty, so does my sorrow.

The crickets play their mournful tune, and my heart strings join in. The symphony of this night lulls me off to dreamland, where I will travel to a familiar fairytale, where a green eyed prince awaits.

~*~

Okay, so what do you guys think? Improvements? Anyone have any tips?

stiksensitive · Jun 28, 2004

I don't have any tips, but this is a great story so far! You are very good with words, and expresing a persons emotions. I like the parallels to Harry Potter, very cool. Your a great writer, keep it up!

Hidden_Love · Jun 28, 2004

Sticksensitive: Thanks a lot for your reply!! It really means a lot to me, and it's a big encouragement!

Well, here is the next journal entry, so I hope you like it!

Dsf, December 23

It is lunchtime, and my stomach growls it’s hunger, but I will not give in. I am fasting. Praying that this isn’t true. That the one thing that I feared was true, isn’t.

Just two periods ago, I was sitting in Mrs. Ferrier’s class, trying oh so hard to concentrate on the lesson, but I couldn’t. I was sidetracked, my mind working ninety miles an hour trying to analyze my feelings.

‘The Ark of the Covenant. Who recalls the significance it held to the Israelites, and it’s place in their history.’ I faintly heard her say.

As always, it was followed by silence. Except for one, obnoxious voice. ‘Looks like Ezra’s all out of words,’ Michael Giordano sneered.

‘Ah! Ms. Ezra!’ The teacher called. Though I heard my voice, I couldn’t look up. I was too engrossed in the mystery that lay unsolved in the back of my mind.

‘Ms. Ezra!’ Mrs. Ferrier said again, and soon I saw two booted feet appear in front of my desk.

I snapped to attention, still foggy on the subject of the question. ‘Yes?’

‘The significance, and history of Ark of the Covenant.’ She looked at me expectantly, he silver eyes unblinking.

‘Um-well,’ I struggled, my face turning red. How could I have been so irresponsible as to not study over the reading last night! It wasn’t like me.

‘Well?’

I sighed, and gave up. ‘I-I don’t know. ‘ The whole class gasped, and murmurs arose all around.

I could hear John’s smart comment about me being so confusing, and I turned to find Isaac’s eyes filled with concern. Quickly looking away, I found that my heart was hammering inside my chest again.

‘Quiet everyone!’ Mrs. Ferrier said, her own brows wrinkling in concern. ‘Since no one seems to know, The Ark of the Covenant was Israel’s attempt to put God in a box...’

The class lecture started, and people quickly jotted down notes. I tried to, but I could feel Isaac’s eyes on me; his emeralds were teasing me, taunting me. I couldn’t look up because I could see the teacher look at me and shake her head. I couldn’t look on either side of me because Isaac was on one side, Katrine was on the other, and I couldn’t handle them right now. The fact that I didn’t do the homework wasn’t really the problem at all. It was the reason I didn’t do it.

I didn’t do it because I didn’t remember to do it. And why did I not remember to do it? For the same reason I wasn’t concentrating today: Isaac. All these years of friendship, all the years of loyalty, compassion and trust were coming together to form something new and confusing. Something terrifying. The fact that he cared for me had finally sunken in, and I began asking myself, ‘If you had the chance, would you die for him? Would you be willing to put your own life at risk just to save his? Could you live, knowing that someday you might take the barrel that was ment for him? ‘ Deep down, I knew that the word yes was printed in big, bold letters on my heart. I suddenly knew that the answer I that had been searching for months for, had just revealed itself in my simple answer to those questions. And with that revelation, came something else. Love. Realizing that love was the reason why I hurt when I was next to him, love was what kept me warm inside during the icy storms, love was the reason that he plagued my thoughts. Love.

Oh yes, the question was answered, but now came an even bigger one. How can I love someone that will never love me back? How can I possibly live around him and know that my heart would be crushed when he chose another girl? How? I couldn’t. The fact that I loved him was even more of a burden than before. Because he could never feel the same about me. I didn’t know I was crying, until a little tear fell onto my paper, then another. Tears of sadness, and tears of fear. How long would it be before he asked me what was bothering me? How long until I can’t take lying anymore, and tell him the truth, and in doing so, make a fool out of myself?

I felt his eyes on me again, and I couldn’t take it. Raising my hand, I trembled with unshed tears. ‘Mrs. Ferrier?’

Mrs. Ferrier looked up from the board and gasped. ‘Good heavens child! Is everything all right?’

I shook my head, ‘Can I be excused?’

‘Of course!’ That was all I needed. I stepped out of my seat, ignoring the eyes on me, and as I was passing by Isaac’s desk, I felt something tug at the pocket of my skirt. Too preoccupied, I didn’t pay it any attention, I bolted out of the class room doors.

I ran into the girls bathroom, choking on sobs. I sat on the bench and cried until there were no more tears to cry; I was emotionally spent.

I stood up and looked myself over in the mirror, appalled at what a mess I was. My eyes were swollen from tears, but bags from sleepless nights shadowed them. My skin was pasty white, and my hair hung in lifeless clumps around my face. What was wrong with me? Why was I letting this situation govern my life? Where did the real Ezra Macaw go? The answer was simple: she fled. Now, in her place was a blubbering mess of a girl, letting her hormones reign in her life. The old Ezra would not have it! She would have laughed and said she was foolish; after all, she used to do that to every love struck girl in the school. But she had changed; grown up some. And it was a pain to grow.

Just then, in the midst of my revelation, the door slammed open, and in walked Katrine. ‘There you are, Ezra!’

I nodded, not wanting to talk, but knew I was going to be forced to.

‘I’m not going to talk to you about what just happened in class, for your sake. I just came to give you this,’ she held out a folded piece of paper in her hand. ‘Isaac dropped this when you ran out, and he asked me to give it to you.’

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well what the letter would say. ‘Ezra,’ it would read. ‘We need to talk.’ Or something like that. I laughed a humorless, bittersweet laugh. ‘Thanks Katrine.’

With that, I walked out, not caring if the voice inside was cut off. I knew I was going to miss Mr. LeBain’s class on End Times, but I didn’t care.

I needed time to sort out my feelings, to straighten out my act. And to find out if what I was feeling was true. Searching for a place to sit and be undisturbed; where I could be hidden.

So, I turned around in the wide marble corridor, and headed to a place where Ms. Terry, the young teacher who we helped, used to hide. It was a small nook next to the library where very few people went.

Sitting down on the dusty old couch, I sighed and opened Isaac’s note.

Ezra,

I know you don’t want to hear me say this, but I’m really concerned about you.. I don’t know why you are avoiding me, or why you run away from me, but please just hear me out.

You’ve been my friend for all of my life, and I don’t like to see you always crying, and then making up excuses. I care about you, and I want you to know that you can tell me what is bothering you, and I’ll understand.

If you would, please come take a walk with me to the lake at lunchtime, we could talk.

Your friend,

Isaac

I knew he would say that, and despite the fact, I felt bitter. Bitter that he could carry on with his life without the knowledge that you love a friend with all your heart. At least he could laugh and be serious; he could smile without the fact that he loved a friend that could never love him back..

So, I decided not to go. As much as it hurt me to let down a friend; as much as it pained me to see in my mind’s eye, that hurt that he would feel, I could not go. Any word that he could speak to me might break the dam. Any question that he might ask would force me to tell him my dark woes.

And as much as I love him, I cannot bear to think that once he would know, he would laugh in my face. Point a finger or two, and call me a little girl.

And through all of my torturous thoughts, a little voice stilled all of my soul.

‘Ezra...’ The Holy Spirit whispered gently. ‘Ezra, are you forgetting who is in control? Do you not remember who I am?’ I could almost hear him laughing. “Ezra, child, why are you doing this to yourself? Just run back to me, and be set on solid ground.’

My heart quivered, and my knees knocked at the love that poured through my soul. Sighing, I leaned back, and began to pray.

Here I am now, searching to see if this “love” is true. While I wait on God, sweet, slumber fogs my mind.

~*~

Hidden_Love · Jul 7, 2004

DSF, December 23

This time, my heart has spoken, and rightly so. I prayed and fasted all through lunch, and yes, fell asleep. Jessica, Johns younger sister, found me, and told me everyone was worried something had happened to me. </P>

It was the last period of the day, around two oclock pm, and I had been missing since around ten- thirty. (I admit, I was quiet embarrassed when everyone was looking at me as I walked in to Ms. Stevens Life of Jesus class).

As I took my assigned seat next to Isaac, I could not look at him. I knew I had hurt him, and I had hurt myself too in the process. I felt so foolish, like a small child caught with my hand in the cookie jar, when the teacher walked up to me.

Ms. Ezra... Mr. Stevens drawled. So nice for you to drop by. His ice blue eyes froze everything in the room; he seemed to take pleasure in punishing students. I was just saying how unfortunate it would be if one of my students ever came in late. He leaned closer, his breath steady and even.. Unfortunate...

I looked into those menacing eyes, not flinching. Im sorry Mr. Stevens, but I was busy.

Mr. Stevens jumped back in mock surprise. Busy? He looked at the rest of the class, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I see. Busy. So busy as to not attend any of your afternoon classes? So busy as to barely not attend my class?

Well, shes here isnt she? Isaac said from beside me. I was surprised that he would stick up for me, after the way I had been treating him as of late. I think that if she missed all of her other classes, but still came to this one you should at least give her that. I looked to Isaac, and saw his eyes glittering a challenge.

Mr. Stevens lips drew to a thin line. I see. He looked to me. Thanks to your friends remark, and your tardiness, you two will be serving two hours of detention today.

My heart sank, and I slumped into my chair. Any more objections? The room was silent as the teacher stiffly eyed his pupils. Good. Turn to page seven hundred and eighty-four in your text books.

After class, Mr. Stevens called Isaac and I up to the front of the room. I have thought about your punishment for today, and decided that you two will clean out the janitors closet.

But, Mr. Stevens, I said. The janitors closet?

That is what I said is it not?

Well, yes, but it will take more than two hours to clean it!

His eyebrows rose. Well, than I suggest you get busy.

As Isaac and I walked out, he sighed. Kind of ironic that he just happens to be teaching Life of Jesus, yet is not practicing what he preaches.</P>

I nodded, as we walked up the first stair case of many until we reached the closet. The silence was deafening, roaring, and I could not help but think about how upset Isaac must be. After all, I hadnt even spoken to him lately; I avoided every chance alone. I knew I hurt him, and it was killing me.

Opening the closet door, I coughed. Dust flew everywhere: in our eyes, in our hair, on the floor. It was a mess.

Funny how this is the janitors closet, but they dont bother to clean it! Isaac said, as he turned on the light and swiped cobwebs from in front of him. I think they do it just to keep up the reputation of dirty janitors closets.

I only nodded my agreement as I eyed the room. It was very large for a closet, and had rows upon rows of dust covered cleaning chemicals, a shelf full of dirty mops, and a trashcan overflowing with brooms. On the floor were dozens of black stains, and over in the corner were empty ink bottles hastily stacked on top of each other. Ink? I said, puzzled. Interesting janitors.
Alright, where do we start? Isaac asked, looking at me expectantly. He had gathered together two decent looking mops and a floor scrubber.

Looking into his genuine eyes, I felt my face flush. How could I have been so rude? Why didnt I go with him? The answer was still the same: I couldnt. Even being in this closet together made me nervous. It was hard, hiding a secret from your best friend. But it was necessary for our friendship wasnt it? I knew that w as a lie. I was ruining our friendship by not talking to him, by not trusting him. Trust...how could I trust him not to laugh at me, and mock me if I told him? The answer was playing over, and over in my mind, but I didnt want to accept. it. You can trust him because hes your friend. Thats a part of friendship: trust.

Ezra! Isaac waved a mop in my face. Are you alright?

I nodded, and grabbed the mop. I was just thinking.

Hm. He said, eyeing me suspiciously. I didnt want to get lost in those emeralds again, so I moved to the other side of the room, pretending to be interested in the ink bottles.

Isaac followed me, bending down to grab one of them. He looked up at me. Ill go get water for the mops.
As he left, I looked through the cleaning products, trying to find one that could be used on marble floors.

Windows, tiles, fan blades, vinyl-wait! I said, grabbing a peculiar bottle. Fan blades? Gees, they really do have stuff for everything. I kept on looking, but found nothing for stained marble.

Isaac came in carrying a large bucket, full of water. He dropped it by the door, sending it sloshing over on to the floor. Ezra, what are you looking for?

I shrugged, just the sound of his voice causing my splintered heart to crack. Marble cleaner.

He joined me in the search, looking on the higher shelves. Its not up there. He began looking on my row, picking up one chemical after another. Slowly, he ended up beside me, and reached for the same bottle I did. The butterflies in my stomach danced, and I backed away.

Here it is, Ezra. you missed it. He held up a familiar looking cylinder; one I had been staring at for the past five minutes. He touched my shoulder, scalding my shirt. Did you hear me?

I nodded, my eyes misting over. Turning so he wouldnt see the tears of pain, I dipped my broom in the water. Pouring the cleaner in, Isaac said quietly, Ezra, you can tell me.'

I angrily jerked the mop out of the bucket, spraying water all over my outfit, but I didnt care. I worked on getting one of the large stains out of the cracks in the tile, my mind rolling. How could he say that? I cant tell him. I cant. He wont understand. Im a foolish little girl. How could I possibly think that he could ever see me anymore than an old friend? Ezra, you got to be the most stupid girl in the world. The mop wasnt helping me at all, so I angrily threw it down, and grabbed the floor brush. I could feel those emeralds on me again, and I saw Isaac, out of the corner of my eye, shrug and start mopping. Dropping down to my hands and knees, I furiously scrubbed, my skirt soaked and dirty with ink. Being in the same room was torture. I wanted to run, to hide my shame. I didnt deserve a friend like him. I looked over and saw him working on his own tile of marble, his midnight hair falling into one eye. My breath caught in my throat, but I quickly looked away. Loving him did not help me with this. It made it worse. And wore yet was the fact that I knew I had hurt him by refusing to talk to him. I didnt say hi to him, or sit with him. And I ran from the chances I had once so eagerly awaited. I couldnt stand it anymore. The pain, the torment, none of it. I sighed, my heart hammering, my lip quivering.

Isaac, I said quietly, trying to remain in control.

He looked up, his green eyes unreadable. Yes?

'I-Im sorry. He raised his eyebrows in encouragement. Im sorry for running away. Im sorry for not walking with you at lunch. Im sorry, I whispered.

He came toward me, his expression compassionate. Im sorry too.

My head snapped up in confusion. Sorry for what?

For making you mad. I was bewildered. I dont know what I did Ezra, but please forgive me.

You didnt do anything! I said.

Then, please, tell me what is wrong. He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look into those emerald traps. I couldnt bear to tell him. I could feel my heart finally completely break, and I felt a tear roll down my face. I cant.

He sighed in exasperation. Why cant you?

Because I cant. I tried to push past him, but he was stronger than I.

He held me in silence, my knees buckling. I was melting. I wanted to run away, because it was torture to be held, but not to be loved. Torture to be held in place, and not able to collapse into those strong arms. Those strong arms that wouldnt let me go, and those strong arms that were unknowingly ripping me apart, and making me bleed.

Why are you afraid? He asked, silently willing me to tell him. Why do you run away from risk, from chance? Why?

He had asked me those same questions but I ran. This time, I could not run. I could not flee into the shadows and lick my wounds. You wouldnt understand.

His face was full of tenderness. How do you know, if you dont give me the chance? How do you know that I wont understand, if you wont even tell me?

Because its not possible for someone to understand something, unless they themselves have gone through it. I looked at my feet.

How do you know that I havent?

Because I know. Theres no way you could lo- I felt my eyes widen, my heart caught in my throat. I had nearly slipped.

Isaac lifted up my chin, his eyes filled with-what? Eagerness? Could what Ezra? I couldnt what? I shrugged, as he let go of me gently. Couldnt love? He searched my face for some sort of clue, some answer to the question. Tell me. His voice was pleading, begging me to tell him. But I couldnt. I just couldnt. I was afraid of the heartache that would surely come with my answer. Why did it have to be him? Why did he just happen to ask me here, where there was no place to go except into the arms of someone who couldnt love me? Anger roiled up inside of me. Anger at my foolishness, anger at how I had allowed myself to get carried away.

Do you want to know why, Isaac Jordan, I run away when I see you? Do you want to know why I avoid your gaze? Do you want to know why I am afraid?

Yes, he whispered.

Because, I said through gritted teeth. Because I love you. Because it hurts me so much Because I know you dont love me, and never will be able to. Because Im afraid that once I tell you, you will laugh at me. Im afraid of the heartbreak that will surely come because you choose another, beautiful girl.

He stood there, shocked. His eyes were wide, his hand running through his raven hair. I was shaking, feeling light headed. There. I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks.

I stormed over to the abandoned floor brush, and scrubbed. My sight was blurred by the liquid drops of pain pouring down my face. I was shaking really bad, my arms were sore. Tears were falling down onto the ink, my mass of curls shrouded my face.

Ezra, he called gently. I felt him kneel beside me, and brush my hair behind my ears. Ezra, look at me.

I couldnt bear to look at him, now that my secret was out. I could hear the drums sounding, as my heart was being prepared for sacrifice.

Is that all you were afraid of? He asked, a smile on his rosy cheeks. He grabbed my shaking hands. I love you Ezra. I dont care if we are young right now. I love you.

The world stopped. I could have sworn my pulse flat-lined. You cant!

He was puzzled. Why cant I Ezra?

Because it will ruin everything. We arent supposed to be in love. Were friends. I sucked in a deep breath. And friends cant feel this way about other friends.
Were children, I protested.

He grinned. Not for always though.

I sighed. I was confused, tired, and weary. I felt something warm and soft touch my cheek. Isaac pulled back.

Ezra, we arent getting married anytime soon, you know. And in love, friends we still are.

So, here I am, writing this to you, in front of the blazing fire. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and the annual Snow Festival will be going. I cant write anymore tonight, because I need to catch up on my sleep. And, though Ill still be dreaming of emerald seas and midnight hair, I will be at peace.

Hidden_Love · Jul 8, 2004

Dsf, December 24

I have not felt so alive in ages! The burden is lifted, the fear is gone. I slept like a baby last night, and I arose this morning so refreshed! Katrine said I kept her up all night because I was snoring.

Jessica ran up to our room and announced that everyone was already outside and waiting for the snow angel contest to begin, so I hurriedly got up.

As I walked outside in my jacket and beanie, I saw Isaac and John waving me over. The view was breathtaking; the snow was glistening in the early morning sunlight, and the trees that were all around were sprinkled with white. The lake below glistened as the sun reflected off of the ice, the air smelt of pine. I soaked it all in for a moment, then headed over toward my friends. Isaac was wearing a dark green jacket that made his dancing eyes stand out, and John was rubbing his gloved hands in anticipation.

‘Hey Ezra!’ John said, smiling. I couldn’t help but grin back. ‘I’ve got this amazing plan to beat Michael and his gang this year!’

I rolled my eyes. ‘For heavens sake John! The snow ball fight isn’t until later!’

He looked at me, bewildered. ‘And since when has that stopped me? Honestly Ezra, you need to lighten up.’

I laughed at his comment. ‘I have lightened up John. Really I have!’

He cocked his head to on side and looked at me. ‘Well, I guess you have. What happened anyway? You were avoiding us for over a month, and over night your back to your old self!’

Isaac and I shared a quick grin. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Certain things really.’

John looked from me to Isaac. ‘Is there something going on that you two want to tell me?’

‘It’s nothing really.’ Isaac said. ‘It’s just that I-’

Mr. Reepa, the principal cleared his throat just then, signaling everyone’s attention. ‘Good morning students!’ Everyone shouted a happy ‘Good morning’ back to him. ‘I am delighted to say that the annual Snow Festival has begun.’ Squeals of excitement could be heard form the girls, and guys gave each other high-fives. ‘May I remind you that though this is a time to have fun, it is our way of celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ.’ He met every students eye from seventh grade all the way up to twelfth. ’The first competition is for the best snow angels. They will be judged on neatness, creativity-yes you can decorate them- and originality. Groups of three and four are required.’ He waited patiently until everyone had spilt up into their groups. ’Well then,’ he clapped his hands. ’Let the celebration begin.’

I turned to Isaac and John. ‘Let’s find a good place with lots of snow, and not many people.’ I looked around doubtfully. ‘If there is such a place.’

It took some time to find a place that wasn’t outside of the yellow tape that marked the boundary lines, but we found one nevertheless. There was a pine tree next to a mound of snow. ‘Now, who’s going to be an angel?’ I asked them, but they just stared at me expectantly. I sighed. ‘Oh, alright, I’ll be the angel.’

John laughed. ’Serves you right! You made me do it last year, and Isaac before that. It’s your turn!’

I took of my beanie, not wanting to make an angel with a lumpy head. Giving it to Isaac, I laid down and gasped. The snow was cold against my hair. Slowly I waved me arms and legs in unison, creating “wings”, and my “robe”.

‘That’s good Ezra, now stand up!’ John said.

‘I don’t want to ruin it though!’ I said as I sat up slowly, and shook my curls free of any snow.

‘Here, grab my hand.’ Isaac said, reaching down and smiling.

I grabbed his strong hands and he gently pulled me up. Still holding me, Isaac looked at the imprint in the snow. ‘If it only had your face.’ He looked at me, a crooked grin on his face. ‘Then it really would be an angel.’ I gasped at his words. The wind blew and ruffled my hair, and Isaac started to say something when I saw Michael Giordano and his three friends stalk towards us. I broke free of Isaac’s grasp, and stood between he and John.

‘Well well. If it isn’t the three hero’s come to save Christmas.’ He sneered, his brown hair reflecting his dirty heart.

‘Let me guess, you’re the Grinch who steals it away.’ John said curtly.

‘That’s right.’ He looked toward his friends and laughed, cueing them to laugh as well. ‘Now, I hope you know, that you’re in our spot.’

I laughed. ‘Bullocks! Go find somewhere else to make an angel.’ He walked up to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. ‘Why don’t I just take you?’ His friends laughed, but stopped when I felt Isaac stand beside me. ‘Touch me and die.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘What if I already have?’ I raised my fist, but Isaac stopped me.

‘You will be when we kill you with snow balls.’

Sneering, he said, ‘See you in heaven hero’s!’ His friends walked off with him, searching for another spot to steal.

I fumed. ‘Why that little imp! If he had gotten any closer, he would have met my fist!’

‘Just wait,’ John said. ‘He’ll be knocked out so fast when the snowball fight begins, he won’t know what happened.’

We all just shook our heads at him, but realized that time was running out, and we just had the shape of the angel and nothing more.

‘I’ll get some ’hair’,’ I said, picking some needles from the nearby pine tree. Scattering it where my head lay, I laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. We didn’t have eyes, or a mouth yet, and there were only a few seconds remaining in the contest.

Just as Mr. Reepa shouted “time”, Isaac drew the first eye. He groaned, but I shrugged. ‘Oh well. ‘

Mr. Stevens came around carrying a notepad, and his eyes squinted in skepticism; our angel had green “Hair”, and one eye. ’Hmm. Very...interesting.’

He looked at Isaac and I. ’Mr. Isaac, Ms. Ezra may I congratulate you on a job well done in the janitors closet. I know a lot of sweat and...’ he looked at me. ’Tears went into your work.’

As he slinked away, we stood gaping. ’Did Mr. Stevens just thank us?’ Isaac asked

‘He must be in the Christmas Spirit!’ John said, with his mouth still hanging. But as we watched him, we saw him stop and smile at a pretty young woman in a red parka. She walked up to him, and kissed his cheek, and his face turned as red as her coat.

I giggled. ‘Nope. Just a bite from the love bug.’ We all cracked up at the thought of the worst teacher ever, falling in love. But, despite my laugh, I couldn’t help but be a bit taken back by his words. The way he said “tears” was like he had known about the incident when Isaac and I were cleaning yesterday. He couldn’t possibly have seen...could he? I was about to say something to Isaac when Mr. Reepa once again called our attention.

‘May I have everyone gather around the judging platform?’ Everyone moved excitedly toward the platform, nerves buzzing. ‘Now, as you all know, there are different awards. One for originality, one for creativity, and another for neatness.’ He turned to the three seated teachers. ’May I have the judges come forward please?’

Mrs. Ferrier, Mr. Stevens, and Ms. LaTevve all got up and stood next to the aging man, holding little, white slips of paper.

‘Now, without further delay, the winner of the most creative snow angle is...’ he opened the envelope Mr. Stevens handed him. ’Jessica White, Katrine DeVour, and Angela Fitzpatrick.’ The three girls squealed and ran up the stage, and eagerly accepting their certificates.

‘A gift card to Royal Sweets!’ Jessica said.

‘Ah, forgive me,’ Mr. Reepa chuckled. ’I forgot to inform you of this years prizes.’ he looked to Jessica. ’It is indeed a gift card for Royal Sweets.’

As the girls started to head off of the stage, Mr. Reepa called them back, saying that they should stay until everyone of the winners was announced. Unfolding the second piece of paper, he said, ‘Rebecca Wood, Genevieve Pocket, and Ralph Humnst have received “Most Neat”.’ The three seventh graders walked up onto the stage shyly, and quietly accepted their prizes. ‘And,’ Mr. Reepa said. ‘”Most Original” goes to Michael Giordano, Craig Lars, and Blake Angelo.’ Michael accepted his prize with a definite air of arrogance. He sneered as he caught my eye.

The morning went on with the mini competitions such as ice sculpturing, and ice skating, but everyone was really just waiting until the snowball fight. I watched John and Isaac build up their snow fort, convinced that this year’s would prove more strong than last. Of course, they’ve said that every year, and it always is the first to fall. It was a round dome, with a rock base, and twig siding; a weak looking thing with only one wall. Isaac waved me over, his eyes filled with boyish pleasure as he dug in the snow. ‘Come on! Help us!’

I shook my head. ‘ You’re not even supposed to be working on it yet! The contest hasn’t started, and I don’t want to miss it!’

Isaac looked up from placing a twig on the side. ‘Why would you miss it?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Because we’d be disqualified for cheating.’

‘Would you relax Ezra!’ John said as he gathered more sticks. ‘It’s only a practice one! Besides,’ he looked around. ’This is out of contest bounds anyway.’

I couldn’t handle just sitting there, doing nothing while the two made fools out of themselves. ‘Here, ’ I said, pushing them aside. ’I’ll remake the side, and you two can start on the other sides.’

Isaac and John grinned, and dug up more snow. As I began to tear down the side, John yelled, ‘Wait! Are you mad?’

‘No John,’ I said, sighing.

‘The why are you tearing the bloody wall down?’ He had dropped his sticks and tried to patch up the gaping hole.

‘Because John, you wanted me to help you, and having this wall is definitely not going to last one snowball.’

He sighed, and stood up. ’Fine Ezra, do whatever you want.’

We worked for a while, until the boys got bored, and snow started flying. I didn’t mind it, until one large snowball hit my back. I narrowed my eyes at Isaac, who stood sheepishly beside me. Grabbing a handful of that frozen weapon, I smothered his face with it. His eyes were wide, but he grinned. I jumped up and ran over to John, but he put snow down my shirt. I yelped as it slithered down my back, like an icy snake. We ran, and threw snow at each other until our hair was wet, and our breathing heavy. John tackled me and rubbed my face in snow, but I got up. As I ran for safety, I tripped. I heard Isaac and John laughing, but as I tried to stand up, I couldn’t. Pain shot from my ankle, throughout my entire leg. I crumpled to the ground again, and saw Isaac and John coming towards me with worried expressions.

‘Are you alright Ezra?’ Isaac asked.

I nodded, despite the pain in my ankle.

‘Gees, Ezra, that was some fall!’ Trust John to make everything funny.

‘I know,’ I tried to stand up, but winced.

‘Ah,’ John said. ‘You do have a twisted ankle.’ He grabbed one of my arms, and Isaac grabbed the other, and together we walked over to where Mr. Reepa sat laughing as Mrs. Ferrier tried to ice skate.

‘Well, hello children!’ Mr. Reepa said, his eyes twinkling merrily. When he saw me, he sat upright in his chair. ‘What happened? Is she alright?’

‘I’m fine sir,’ I said, annoyed that everyone was making a big fuss. ‘It’s just a twisted ankle.’

He motioned for Ms. Allie, the school nurse. ‘Miss, would you mind taking a look at her ankle? She seemed to have sprained it.’ Ms. Allie waddled over to us with her medicine bag in hand.

‘Oh yes,’ she said as she cradled my ankle in her hand. ‘sprained ankle indeed.’ She looked at me, her gray hair falling into her eyes, ‘ You’d best stay out of the rest of the competitions today.’

I groaned. I had really wanted to hit Michael with a snow ball. Ms. Allie looked over to the steps that led from the side door. ‘You can still stay out here if you like, but you need your foot propped up, and a bag of ice on top to keep the swelling down.’ Then, thinking better she said. ’Actually, you should probably come with me to the infirmary.’ I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up her hand. ‘If you stay out here with a pack of ice on your leg, you’ll catch hypothermia. I’m sorry.’

I gave John and Isaac a smile of apology. ‘Sorry guys. I guess you’ll have to win it without me.’

‘But the infirmary’s on the other side of the school! You can’t even watch us!’ John exclaimed.

I shrugged. ‘It’s not my fault.’

The nurse waddled off, but looked back. ‘Come on dear!’

Isaac put his arm around my waist. ‘Here, I’ll walk with you.’ The butterflies went wild in my stomach. As we walked inside, I sighed. It was so warm and quiet.

Isaac whispered to me, ‘So, what did you get me for Christmas?’ I felt my heart drop. How could I have forgotten? Oh well, I’d think of something before the evening gift exchange (hopefully).

‘Um, it’s a surprise actually.’ I looked up at him. He smiled, his green eyes twinkling mischievously.

‘I’ve got a surprise for you too.’ he grinned, making the butterflies flutter wildly in my stomach.

[A/N: Cont. on next post]

Hidden_Love · Jul 8, 2004

...

Ms. Allie stopped by the door, to the infirmary. ‘Here we are miss.’ We stepped inside, to find it cold and dark, and quiet lonely really. ‘We’ll set you up here, and I’ll see what I can do to help that ankle of yours.’

I sat on the bed she pointed to, and shivered. The sheets were rough, the mattress hard, and the pillows were flat. Of course, it wasn’t my first time to be here. Over the years, Isaac, John and I have always managed to end up in the infirmary at least twice a year. We were very familiar with the room, but each time I am always taken aback at how unfriendly it is.

Ms. Allie clucked her tongue, much like she had in seventh grade, and not-to-gently wrapped up my ankle in an ace bandage. It was swollen, and turning purple where I had bruised the bone, but nevertheless, I wanted to walk back to the common room.

‘Certainly not!’ Ms. Allie objected, her gray hair falling regally around her, like a crown of authority. ‘It’s too far to walk on a sprained ankle! You could damage it worse.’

I looked to Isaac for help. ‘I could walk her back, Ms. Allie.’

She eyed us suspiciously. ‘How do I know you two won’t sneak away, and go back outside?’ Though well along in years, her mind was still as sharp as a needle.

‘We won’t! I promise, I’ll stay in the common room!’ I begged her, feeling as foolish as a child, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to stay locked in that dreadful infirmary on Christmas Eve.

‘Oh alright. I suppose.’ She said reluctantly, and I smiled at Isaac. ‘But, you must promise me that you will stay in your dormitory, and keep off of your foot.’

I promised, and Isaac and I were off, slowly but surely. His arm was wrapped supportively around my waist, and he acted as my right leg. As we walked, I thought back over the morning, and suddenly remembered. ‘Isaac!’ I said. He looked down at me. ‘Do you remember what Mr. Stevens said this morning?’ My thoughts were reeling.

He looked puzzled. ‘When he thanked us? Sure, I remember. Why?’ We were almost to the dormitory door.

‘Remember when he said that we had put much effort, and tears into the work?’ I emphasized the word tears, just like he had.

Isaac pondered for a moment. ‘Yeah, but what does that have to do with-’ his eyes got wide, resembling two green oceans. ‘Oh! Do you think he was spying on us when we were cleaning?’

I shook my head. ‘That’s a little juvenile, even for him. There’s been rumors of security cameras in the school.’

‘Hmm.’ Isaac said as we opened the door, and stepped into the brightly lit room. The fire was crackling, still burning from this morning, and the Christmas tree sparkled in the light. The balcony that led up to the girls rooms was draped with garlands and wreaths. It was beautiful. ‘It’s possible it was security cameras. Though, I still think we were being watched.’

As we headed over to the couch that sat by the fire, I grinned. As always, Isaac suspected something fishy. I propped myself up on the couch pillows, and settled down, somewhat comfortable.

‘Do you need anything else Your Highness?’ He asked, as he handed the bag of ice to me. I laughed, playfully swatting his stomach.

‘A pen, and a notebook would be nice.’ He bowed, like a good servant would, and was back with the items before I had time to thank him.

‘Your wish is my command!’ He smiled, and I couldn’t help thinking, If you only knew, Isaac, what my wish was.

Isaac walked over to the big window by the fire place. ‘At least you’ll be able to watch us from here.’

I heard a faint whistle, and Isaac jumped. ‘I got to go, Ezra! That’s the starting whistle!’

He was out the door in a flash, leaving me alone with my own thoughts. I sat back, knowing that if I watched the competition, I’d lose track of time, and forget about trying to come up with a gift for Isaac. Of course, I had already gotten John one. It was a new soccer ball, and a collectors edition jersey personally autographed by George Newell, the world famous soccer player. I had thought of giving Isaac one too, but it just wasn’t the same.

I stroked the paper fondly, letting her mind rest for a minute. Writing was my hobby, though I had never told any of my friends. My dresser, up in my room was full of short stories, poetry, and even songs. My parents had ooed and ahhed over my accomplishments, and over the past summer, one of my poems had been published in a book. But, I never told anyone at the school about that. I don’t know why really, I just didn’t.

Feeling the words start forming in my mind, I thought about what about what had taken place over the past month. A lot really, and she remembered all of those shed tears, all of those sleepless thoughts. That was all I needed. Touching my pen to the paper, I was off. It flowed like water from a brook, like rain from heaven, like tears form my eyes.

What started out as a poem, turned into a song, and I hummed to myself as I wrote.

Sorry to hurt you, grieve you

Tear you apart while you watch me

As I suffer ‘cause what you want is what I want too,

I need to be held in your arms to be free.

My heart was soaring with the words, relieved that I was able to say what I always wanted, needed to say. The chorus came out just as easily as the verse.

Take me high in the sky

On your cloud of daydreams

Let me hold you as we soar on eagles wings

Because love is held in your emerald eye.

Now I was engrossed, trapped in a world of painted words. The mural I was creating rushed at me with force, making the pen in my hand move faster and faster as I wrote the second verse.

Singing the words as I wrote, my strong voice filled with longing as I wrote the bridge.

‘Call on me, reach for me

Grab my hand and know

That I’m here because of you!

‘Take me high in the sky

On your cloud of daydreams

Let me hold you as we soar on eagles wings

Because love is held in your emerald eyes.’

My voice lowered, still singing, my heart still reaching out, trying to be heard.

‘La, la, la, la, la, la, la

Because of you...

La, la, la, la, la, la, la

On your thoughts, on your dreams

La, la, la, la, la, la, la’

I felt my voice waver with the last words. ‘Because of you’

[A/N:continued on next post]

Hidden_Love · Jul 8, 2004

Quivering with relief, I sat back and just stared at my song. I tried to massage the cramp out of my hands, not realizing how hard I was holding the pen. Amazingly, I felt lighter. An unseen burden had been lifted from my chest, and I basked in the freedom I possessed. Why didn’t I think about it earlier? I didn’t know why, really.

After that, the day went by in a rush, with Isaac and John winning first place for being the last team standing.

They rushed in the common room whooping in delight, pure merriment dancing in their eyes.

‘Did you watch us Ezra?’ John said, his clothes dark with melted snow. He didn’t wait for my response, and shook his head, flinging water everywhere.

Despite the water that they dripped everywhere, the boys had a great time laughing about how they had stuffed snow in Michael’s face, and putt icicles down Blake and Craig’s shirts.

After they had showered, and were dressed in warm, dry clothes, the three of us sat around the fire with Jessica, Katrine, and David-he was the oldest out of us, a junior. David and Jessica laughed quietly, while I noticed that John and Katrine sat close together, murmuring. John’s face looked flushed when Katrine scooted even closer, and I couldn’t help but smile.

‘I think John got bit from the love-bug too!’ I said to Isaac, nodding to the two oblivious teens. He laughed. ‘I would have never guessed!’

Soon, the bell signaling evening meal rang, and I couldn’t remember when I had ever been so hungry! I had fasted yesterday, woken too late to eat this morning, and ate only crackers for lunch, so when I imagined the smoked ham with plum and pineapple sauce, my mouth watered.

Isaac helped me to the dining hall, smiling all the way. I don’t know why he was so happy, but I was glad he was in a light mood.

When we opened the grand doors, I gasped. It was beautiful! The tables were adorned with dark green table clothes, and holly. The high medieval ceiling was decorated with vines and ivy, holly and mistletoe. Deep purple and gold banners hung down proclaiming that Jesus Christ was God’s gift, and that the Lord was present in the place. It was a site that never ceased to amaze me every year. Each Christmas, they think of something different and outrageous to deck the school. I had to say that this was the most majestic design so far.

We walked over to our table, awestruck. Sitting down next to Isaac, I spotted a couple of seventh graders standing perfectly still, their eyes fixed on the beautiful decorations. ‘Isaac! Look at those kids!’

He laughed. ‘I wonder if we looked like that the first year we came.’

‘We probably did.’ I was about to say more, but Mr. Reepa called for attention up at the teachers table.

‘As you all know, it is Christmas Eve.’ He waited patiently for the squeals to die down. Then, he closed his eyes, and raised his hands to the night sky. ‘Father, I love you. Thank you for sending your son to accomplish what none of us could ever do. Jesus, we love you. Thank you for coming, even when you knew what was going to happen. We ask that your Holy Spirit come rest in this place. Please bless this wonderful food, and the hands that made it. Thank you for all the wonderful students. In Your name, Amen’

We all echoed an amen, and all at once hands started grabbing for the food that was resting in the center of our tables.

The smoked ham I had drooled over was indeed waiting for me, as was the sweet potatoes. John reached for a plate of escargots, and popped one in his mouth, grinning. I shuddered at the thought of eating snails.

All around me, people laughed, and once again, I could feel myself drift off to daydream. It was only a few days ago, I had sat in this spot and wept internally. It was amazing at how much I had grown in a month. My heart was still mending, the blood was still being washed away, and the pain still lingered like a nightmare from childhood. I knew I would never forget the hurt that I went through, nor would I leave it tucked inside, so my soul would fester with new pain. I was determined to get it out, and start living again.

‘Ezra?’ Isaac said, his brow furrowed in concern.

‘Hmm?’ I asked him, not wanting to make him worried again.

‘Are you okay. Really okay?’ I nodded, smiling.

‘Actually,’ I said, leaning against him. ‘I’ve never been better.’

He smiled back, his captivating eyes letting me peer intro his soul.

The dinner went well, with so much laughter, Katrine and I think that we lost all of the calories from the dessert. The school orchestra played Silent Night, and O Holy Night, before doubt started to nab at my senses. I had figured out the tune for my song, and had even written the music out for my guitar. Yes, I play guitar. It’s another secret that I haven’t bothered to tell anyone but Isaac. I started in eighth grade, when Isaac started teaching me in secret. What if he doesn’t like it? What if he thinks it’s silly? I chewed my lip in agony, struggling with whether or not I should really carry out my plan. I mean, most people didn’t give songs to someone for Christmas.

‘Ezra?’ Isaac said, nudging me with his elbow. I looked up, startled. ‘Do you want my cake?’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t think I could eat another bite.’

Once again, Mr. Reepa stood up. ‘Merry Christmas to everyone! I hope you have a wonderful night. And remember, lights out at eleven o’clock!’ The hall was filled with groans of protest, but Mr. Reepa wouldn’t be moved. ‘you may be dismissed.’

We filed into lines, making our way to our different common rooms. Once inside, everyone got loud, and Isaac, John and I went immediately to the fireplace. We laughed about the year before, and how Isaac had tried to kiss Samantha O’Neill under the mistletoe, but got slapped.

‘That was so smooth, mate.’ John said, laughing. ‘Your face was red the whole night!’

Isaac glared at him, but I did see his mouth twitch in an attempt to hide a smile. ‘She wasn’t worth it.’

John looked sly. ‘But Ezra is, right?’

I could feel my face burning with embarrassment, and I could see Isaac’s ears turn red. ‘Shutup, alright man?’

‘Gees, I was just playing with you!’ John looked at me and rolled his eyes. ‘He’s mental, ya know?’

All I did was roll my eyes, and watched as he made his way to Katrine’s side, and led her to the door. Katrine’s brown eyes got big with surprise when she saw the mistletoe hanging underneath John, but smiled shyly.

As soon as they kissed, I looked away. I didn’t mean to look away, but it was just too awkward watching your best friend kiss someone. Isaac felt uncomfortable too, and suggested we go out on the balcony. I agreed, and there we were, two best friends in love, talking our hearts out.

We talked about God, and what he’s done for us. We discussed how great a man of God Mr. Reepa was, and reminisced in old times. It was fun, but all too soon I heard the class president say that lights out was in ten minutes.

‘Well,’ Isaac said nervously, raking his sun-bronzed hand through his hair. ‘I guess we should head to bed.’

I shook my head, swallowing my fears. ‘Not yet. I have to give you your gift.’ I looked around. ‘Hold on, I have to get something.’

I left him on the balcony, confused and flustered. The common room was quiet, but voices could be heard in the dormitories. I ran to my dormitory, and opened up to find a grinning Katrine. ‘Oh Ezra! You wouldn’t believe how wonderful-’ She stopped when she saw me throwing my blankets off of my bed.

‘What are you looking for?’ she asked, puzzled.

‘Something...’ I said flippantly, not having the time to explain. ‘Ah ha!’ There, under my bed, was a large, tattered, leather case. Grabbing it, I yanked the door open, but stopped to say to a very confused Katrine, ‘We can talk later.’

I made it to the balcony, breathing heavily. Partly because of running up and down the stairs, but also because my nerves were on end. I was shaky, and I pulled my guitar out of my case. Isaac just looked at me with quiet curiosity.

Sitting on the ledge that overlooked the lake, I strummed my guitar, getting a feel for the strings. ‘I know this isn’t a practical gift, Isaac.’ I said as he sat near me. ‘But, I have a song for you that I want to sing.’ I didn’t dare look at him, because I knew I would break from the nervousness. Taking a deep breath, I began to strum the tune that had set my soul free. I began.

I closed my eyes as I sang the second verse, my voice growing stronger with each word, as I was swept away in the music. It was wonderful, to be able to finally communicate. I opened my eyes on the bridge of the song.

I could see him start to smile, and I softened my voice.

‘La, la, la, la, la, la, la

Because of you...

La, la, la, la, la, la, la

On your thoughts, on your dreams

La, la, la, la, la, la, la’

Because of you’

I ended my song, my heart pounding, my face flushed. Had I really just done that? Did I really sing that song, in public? The look in Isaac’s eyes told me yes.

He smiled, his teeth sparkling in the moonlight. ‘That was amazing!!!’

I smiled sheepishly. ‘Merry Christmas.’

He came over to me, and I felt my palms getting sweaty. ‘Did you write that?’

I nodded, and he continued to look stunned. ‘You can sing too!’ At my nod, he grinned. ‘Gees Ezra, you really have some tricks up your sleeve.’

I laughed, still nervous. ‘Nah, just some secrets.’ He helped me put my guitar back in my case. ‘Do you think anyone was listening?’ I was horrified at the thought.

‘Probably Ezra.’ Then he decided to change his answer. ‘Actually, your voice probably sang them to sleep.’

I grinned, but still wondered if he got the message of the song. It was an apology really. One that took forever for me to figure out how to say.

When we were about to go in, he stopped me. I turned around to face him, and found myself getting lost in those emeralds. But this time, I didn’t fight it. ‘Apology accepted.’ He whispered, then tenderly brushed his lips with mine. I felt my knees give way, my hear was pounding,

It was a simple kiss, full of innocence and pure love. I pulled back, and sighed quietly.

Now it was his turn to grin, his laugh exuberant and boyish. ‘Merry Christmas!’

I pulled him in a tight embrace, as a single tear rolled down my face. It was wonderful to have a best friend who cared about you so much. It was even better to have a friend who loved you.

And though I will keep dreaming of emerald eyes, I know that maybe a fairytale does exist. A fairytale encased in a single, fragile tear drop.

*~+~*

Well, that's the end of the story, but I'm thinking about making a sequel, so maybe you'll see these characters again soon.

I hope you enjoyed it,and if you have any questions, comments, tip, whatever I'd be more than happy to read them!

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