[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i6pUX9Szzz0][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/68dd8263880779ab118acdbe80432b96/tumblr_mlfdfaMWNx1sor8q8o9_1280.jpg[/img][/url]

[color=fff79a][i]Did you know that every time you sigh, a little piece of happiness escapes?[/i][/color]
[b]
[color=a187be][h1]ACT III: GHOST STORY[/h1]
[h3]HOLDEN'S CRAB[/h3][/color][/b][/center]

Holden Sandstrom was a mysterious person in Izzy's eyes. Despite having shared a great number of classes together for all four of their high school years, the two had never said a word to each other. He was a sickly young man, from what Izzy knew. He was thin, pale, waifish in build. Like taut string he looked as though he might break if you were to touch him. Izzy had never seen him participate in PE, and in fact had never seen him exert himself physically at all. Given the regularity of his doctor's appointments, he would frequently come to school late, leave early, or not show up at all. There was a joking rumor that surrounded him, implying that he was actually just a truant that stayed at home.

Izzy didn't have much of a mind to describe a boy as "beautiful;" she wasn't a romantic in that way. But if she was ever asked to point out an example, it would probably be Holden. His presence seemed ethereal, as though he was woven from gossamer instead of flesh and blood. His parents had been a Canadian oil magnate, and the daughter of a Japanese investor (so Izzy had heard), and so rumor held that he was a child of wealth and privilege. His dark hair and eyes, with his pale skin and subtle foreign features gave him an air of exoticism in the sea of blonde Caucasians that made up the rest of her hometown's population. Not to mention the rumored wealth that he stood to inherit. If he had been a girl, perhaps he would be the image of a sheltered heiress. But instead, he was a sickly, frail boy. His posture and his attitude allowed for no one to come close to him, and so no one tried. He existed on his own, as an island, and not a soul dared to approach him.

The first interaction Izzy ever had with him, was the morning of September 16. It had been a few weeks since the incident with Trevor, and school was back in session. Izzy had been running up the stairs, late for class by the virtue of forgetting where her new classroom was. And as she ascended the steps, a boy fell from heaven. Well, not really. Holden had been just above her on the stairs, lost his footing, and fell backwards straight into Izzy. Out of reflex, she tried to catch him and break his fall. Izzy's expectation was that he would be much heavier than her and bowl her over, knocking them both to the ground. Instead, she caught him effortlessly. Izzy was not much stronger than a normal girl her age, despite her supernatural physique, and even so, she still had a normal sense for weight and pressure. The fact was that Holden did not seem to weigh anything at all. Holding him up, it was though he was not even there. "Weight" was not a force that he exerted on the world around him. Standing back up, and before Izzy could say two words to him, he fled like a wounded deer, running (carefully) up the stairs and down the hall, out of sight.

Izzy did not see him for the rest of the day, but the incident weighed heavily on her mind. After the school day had ended, she met up with Trevor in an empty art classroom. They were in many of the same classes this year, and Trevor had taken it upon himself to improve Izzy's academics in time for college applications. School council elections had been the previous week, and Trevor had badgered Izzy into being his running mate. Such was his magnetism, it seemed, that the two easily won election, and were now the senior class representatives. Izzy found out almost immediately that it was tedious, thankless work, and so they met frequently after class to engage on the various projects assigned to them. Izzy didn't feel like hanging out at her house, thanks to her obnoxious brothers, and Trevor had obvious reasons that he didn't want to go home. Despite the events at the end of summer break, the two were still good friends. Trevor had no recollection of what had transpired, and acted the same as he always did. Izzy had decided that, while she couldn't love him after learning what he felt like deep inside, that she could still stand by him as his friend. It worked fairly well, for what it was worth.

The two were taking a break, Izzy playing with a pen and Trevor taking his glasses off to rest his eyes. Accounting for student council funds was most of what the senior representatives did, and it was mind-numbing work. Izzy idly inquired what Trevor knew about Holden Sandstrom, and he mulled the name over for a bit before speaking tiredly about it.

"Hummm... He's got kind of a weird name. Holden is the protagonist in [i]The Catcher in the Rye[/i], and Sandstrom is Swedish, I'm pretty sure. Besides that, well, I figure you would know more, since you've had so many classes with him. It's pretty unusual for you to be asking about someone else, too. You have a crush on him?" Trevor smiled coyly. "But as far as I know... He's an honor student, he has perfect attendance, sick days aside, and he doesn't have any friends that I know of. I tried talking to him a few times but he's just..." Trevor struggled for a word for a moment. "Defensive. Like a castle with the gate drawn and the windows barred. Absolutely no way in."

Trevor leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He and I went to the same middle school; I know you went to a different one. He was on the track team back then, and he was really good at it, too. He even broke some records, I think. But now, compared to back then, he just seems so different. Fleeting, as though he's not really there."