Alex was sat at the edge of the field, the edge opposite the school, where the field became a lightly wooded area. His back was propped against a tree, he had a book in hand. Yellowing pages, most folded or creased, obviously old. It was his favourite book. The book he read every time he was forced to move schools, sometimes he had to read it multiple times. He sat there, reading, trying to take his mind off the problems of making new friends and being [i]normal[/i] when he happened to glance up. He noticed a girl, quite pretty, seemingly carefree, obviously well-liked, who seemed to almost float across the grass and fold, elegantly, into a sitting position.

He watched as she removed her sketch-book from her bag and began drawing with a fountain pen, which was no easy feat by any standards. It seemed to almost glide across the page, he assumed, leaving very faint, but very effective lines.

He had never been very artistic. It was a talent that he, unfortunately, did not possess, and could never quite learn. He had tried, many a time, to learn the basics of drawing, but had never quite cracked it. Origami was more his style, that and the academic subjects. Sciences, mathematics and psychology were his forte. And that was unlikely to ever change.

Nevertheless, he was intrigued by this girl, who seemed to lack any sense of self-doubt, which was something he could never relate to. He was confused by her, and rather the idea of finding out how she managed to seem so confident yet quiet, appealed to him.