Moon Girl

Most people love the moon. It's such a beautiful orb in the sky, but not Krystal Kamowski. She hated the moon, but only since she's referred to as Moon Girl. They called her that due to a crescent scar that encircled her left eye. The scar was a secret she never told anyone about, that was the only thing people knew about her. Krystal was a girl with a moon scar and an array of stories.

"Are you ever not going to wear makeup?" Her mother complained as Krystal entered the kitchen. Ever since she got it, Krystal wore makeup to try and cover it. It was hard covering something that's across one fourth of your face.

"No." Replied Krystal, like she did every time her mother asked. "Okay, going to school. Bye love you." She grabbed her keys from the counter.

"Make friends! Love you!" She mother called after her like she did every morning.

Make friends? What do I need those for? I am perfectly fine by myself. No one to bother me and no one to tell my scar story to. Just how I like it.

The school halls were a giant display case for Krystal. No matter how much makeup she put on, the crescent divot would always be there. At least the makeup masked a little.

"Where'd you get the scar, Moon face?" Asked a passing student. Ted clung to Blake's shoulder, watching the interaction.

"Got branded from the street fights I do." Krystal said cooly. She'd been asked that question by most of the student body but she never gave the same answer twice. Krystal continued down the hall until another student stopped her only a few feet from her last encounter.

"I don't know you, but where did you get that scar?" The student asked boldly.

"It's my souvenir from when I went to NASA, I couldn't afford a shirt." Krystals face didn't waiver from her normal scowl. The student looked horrified and scattered elsewhere. Blake smiled.

These people have no filter! Why do they obsess over my scar. I'm aware it's there and it's something I'd rather forget but that's pretty impossible. Being asked about the same thing for almost 6 years is quite an annoyance.

Krystal Kamowski interested me. She was a beautiful girl, who just happened to have a scar on her face. I liked that she never answered the same. It was amusing. Some of the responses she comes up with are quiet funny. NASA souvenir, a piece of the moon hit her in the face, hair dresser went rouge, she needed a whole new eye, the list goes on. I can't imagine people boldly asking me about a scar I have. Curiosity is a dangerous thing, I should know. I'm curious myself, but if she won't tell anyone at this school, she sure won't tell me.

"That girl is a bitch." Ted commented.

"If you got asked that all the time I'm sure it would be annoying." Blake shrugged, slyly sticking up for the girl no one knew. He himself had never asked, but Ted on the other hand had asked about a dozen times. "How many times have you asked?" Blake smiled.

"A few." Ted chuckled.

"Fool." Blake pushes his friend towards their first class.

Blake and his best friend Ted only had their first class together, but that's probably because she was the only teacher in the school could handle the two of them together. The bell rang as they entered the room.

"You're late." Mrs. Tallen commented, not looking up from her stack of papers.

"We're on time." Ted pointed out. She met their eyes over her spectacles.

"If you're on time, you're late." Blake gave an apologetic smile.

"Yes ma'am, won't happen again." Blake was raised with manners, plus he respected Mrs. Tallen. She was honest and fair.

In another classroom Krystal sat at her desk ignoring the rest of the student population. Headphones in, covered by her long black hair. When it was time to start class she removed one ear bud and turned the volume down.

"Good morning class." Mr. Watson paced the room. "Just a heads up, tomorrow we are having a assembly, which will cause shorter classes."

Yay short class, boo assembly.

"We'll even get a performance from the cheerleaders!" He smiled at the class.

Double boo.

"Alright, let's carry on with our day." Mr. Watson threw himself into the lecture. Krystal hated Mr. Watson, she always found him slightly creepy.

I wonder what would cause a scar like that. Was it self inflicted? Was it abuse? An accident? Maybe she was born with it. What if it was one of her epic stories. What if she really is that cool?

"Blake. Blake!" Ted whispered to his day dreaming friend.

"Huh, yeah." They looked at each other.

"You were drooling, what were you thinking about?" Blake rolled his eyes. "Thinking about those hot cheerleaders we get to watch shake their asses tomorrow?"

"Totally." Blake was being sarcastic, but Ted bought it.

"My man." He grabbed his shoulder and shook him. Blake laughed at his friend.

How much money do you think it was coast for me to get out of school. Hundreds? Thousands? Millions? Who we kidding I barley had twenty bucks.

School went by slow for both Krystal and Blake. Blake was busy thinking about Krystal, something he'd been finding himself doing more often. Krystal had been an out of sight out of mind for most people, Blake included, until recently. Slowly he had caught on the bone of the answers duplicated or were very unlikely stories, they used to seen plausible in the past. Things like surgery or born with it. Now it's branding from secret fight clubs or NASA souvenir. Blake has one train in himself that he could never squish, reinvent or ignore; his curiosity. Now that she was stuck in her head, she'd never get out.

By lunch time Blake had replayed every encounter he had with Krystal, ever. Which wasn't many. They very rarely crossed paths. His friends barley noticed him lost in thought.

My next class, I need to get there quickly. Then I can get the window seat.

I think everyone has learned that the window seat my was mine, no one even tried to sit there anymore.

Blake stared at her through the window, across the grass through another window. From here, she looked like every other girl. All you could see from here was her long, black hair and when the sun caught them just right, her sky blue eyes. Even her lips shimmered in the light. The sun, itself, found her beautiful enough to show off.

Please look my way.

Krystal stared at her teacher with a scowl. That was mostly just her face now. People say she either never knew how to laugh or forgot how to laugh.

What is the point in making jokes and fun of something so dull? Doesn't he know, no matter how many times you point to the X and go "here it is" it's still as lame as the first time he said it?

Krystal turned her attention to the grass outside her window. Blake straightened in his chair. Her eyes just roamed all the pretty flowers that poked up across the grass.

Maybe in hell, there is beauty too.

Blake slumped back into his chair when Krystal returned her attention back to her own classroom, something Blake probably should have done.

"Mr. Hardy." His teacher stood at the head of his table, an unamused scowl decorated her face. "Is there something, or perhaps someone across the way more interesting then your own education?" Her words dripping with distain.

"No ma'am." She gave him a sharp nod and stalked back to the head of the class.

"I'd give that a rest." The girl next to him whispered. "She hasn't given people the time of day for years now, since grad school I think." Blake looked at Chelsea sitting next to him. She had leaned over and her eyes were trained on Krystal like Blake's were a moment ago.

"You knew her back then?" Finally their eyes met.

"We went to school together. I wouldn't call us friends. She only had one friend, a best friend but she moved away after middle school." Blake sighed. "If you ask me, she's a lost cause." Chelsea threw the comment over her shoulder and she went to work in her text book.

A lost cause? How can anyone say that about a person?! Don't we all get a chance to redeem ourselves? A chance to grow again?

Blake looked out the window one more time in hopes of meeting her eyes, but the room was dark and only her outline could be seen. Shaking his head, Blake started his homework.

After a long day, the bell sounded, signaling the end of another day. Most kids bolted from class. Krystal has no where important to go, so it didn't matter how quickly or slowly she left. If you're going nowhere, you're never late.

Blake found his group of friends and grabbed Ted.

"What trouble are we getting into this weekend?" Blake joked.

"Parties. Beautiful women." Ted shimmed his shoulders. Blake lost himself in laughter.

"Isn't that your agenda for every weekend?"

"And shouldn't it be yours? You don't have a woman right now."

Blake and Krystal's paths crossed, literally. They stood face to face with each other. They both took a step to the side, in sync with each other. They tried again on the other side, but still were instep with one another. They tried again. And again. Blake started to chuckle, Krystal rolled her blue eyes.

"Both to the right?" Blake suggested. They both took a step, still face to face with each other. "I said right." She stared at him with wide eyes like he was stupid. A laugh bubbles through him. "Right, my right. Not yours, sorry." Blake stepped towards Ted, clear of Krystal and she shot past him.

Could he be more full of himself? I mean really? He thinks it's cute. It's annoying. Lord, boys are infuriating! Especially boys like Blake Hardy.