If there was anyone at St Helena's College that could be described as perfect, it would be Veronica Brown.

Natalie watched her pass, her auburn hair turning almost strawberry blonde as she stepped into the sunlight. Veronica had the kind of freckles that other girls drew on, the kind of blue eyes that contact lenses were created to mimic. Her uniform sat on her perfectly, cinching at her waist and flaring at her hips.

Natalie tugged at her own skirt; two sizes too big. Her mum had said she'd grow into it. Six years later, she was still waiting for that growth spurt.

The first time Natalie realised she was different; she was seven years old. Her dad wasn't the principal of her school yet, but vice-principal garnered just as much attention.

Her friends didn't know they were related yet—there were about four other kids with the surname Chen, none of whom were related—and all it took was one recess.

One offhand comment.

Something about his eyes, about the way they pulled at the corners. And then they were pulling theirs at the corners.

And then they were looking at Natalie.

Looking at Veronica reminded her of that day. Not only because she was there that day, innocently tugging on her eyelids, but also because she was as close as humanly possible to perfect. Everything Natalie wasn't.

Sighing, she hiked her backpack higher on her shoulders and trailed in the direction Veronica had walked, towards the gates.

A crowd had gathered, blocking the exit, and Natalie frowned, slowing her steps. What was happening there?

"Natalie! Wait for me!"

Natalie spun, her ponytail whipping the air as she faced her friend. Nyra paused in front of her, hunching over to plant her hands on her knees and pant heavily, catching her breath.

"I am so unfit," she huffed out and Natalie laughed.

Standing upright, she watched as her friend's thick black hair was shoved back, out of her face, revealing her brown skin and wide eyes.

"How was your meeting, Miss Vice-Captain?" Nyra asked, tightening her ponytail, and tugging on her skirt.

Natalie rolled her eyes, grinning. She'd gotten the badge months ago, but Nyra would never get over it. "Not bad. We were kind of just figuring out the assembly schedule for the rest of term. How was... piano?"

"Flute, today," Nyra replied, shrugging the shoulder her flute case was strapped over.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, and Nyra laughed.

"No biggie. We can't all be musical geniuses, or whatever, right?"

"So humble, too."

"Hey, you can brag all about your straight A's and straight shot for medical school, and I can brag about being a musical prodigy. It's fair that way."

Natalie scoffed, shooting her a look. "I don't brag!"

"Sure, you don't." Nyra's voice fell flat, and she released a huff, turning towards the gate of the school. "What are they all crowding around for? School ended an hour ago."

Before Natalie could even open her mouth, someone else replied for her.

"It's this amazing thing called boys, Nyra. Heard of it?"

The pair looked up to find Veronica smiling at them. If Natalie didn't know any better, she would've called that smile kind, maybe even polite. But she'd known Veronica since kindergarten, and kind never came without an underlying motive for her.

Nyra rolled her eyes. "Believe it or not, not everyone went to an all-girls school since birth, Veronica. I know what a boy is. Doesn't mean I have to like them."

Veronica's smile didn't waver. Instead, she turned, directing it towards Natalie.

"And you, Natalie?"

She blinked. What was she asking her? It hadn't seemed like a question was included in that sentence. It didn't matter anyway because Veronica was already laughing lightly to herself.

"Oh, right. Vice-captain. Future doctor. You probably don't have time for boys, huh?" It was phrased as a question, as polite curiosity, but Natalie knew her too well. She knew the tone of her voice and that look in her eyes. She was condescending her. "Oh well, see you girls around, yeah?"

She sent the pair a sinister smile. Natalie held back a shudder. Veronica had a talent for making people feel bad without saying anything mean at all.

And with one last unsettling look, she turned and continued easily through the crowd. As the younger students parted ways for the strawberry blonde, the boy they were fawning over finally came into view.

He was tall, taller than both Natalie and Nyra, and his hair was a kind of blond-ish brown. Sandy. From afar, the only other thing she could make out was his uniform—Sierra Grammar, which meant he was rich too.

Or, more importantly, Sierra Grammar—the school her mother worked at.

Leon's school.

The wind whipped beside her, and Natalie turned to see Nyra punching the air as if there were an invisible punching bag hanging in front of her, a grimace pulling at her face.

"I hate that girl," she hissed, keeping her voice low.

Natalie laughed. "You've only known her since Year Seven. Try all twelve years of school together, then you can say you hate her."

"I don't know how you do it," Nyra said. "Especially being Vice-Captain to her."

They turned back to the crowd, watching together as Veronica paused in front of the boy and hugged him. Nyra scoffed.

"Of course, she knows him. He's so Veronica's type, isn't he?"

Natalie frowned. The boy pulled Veronica to his side, his arm tossed lazily across her shoulders as they leaned against his fancy looking car. "Do you know who he is?"

"Do I? He's Lucas Morton," she said, as if that name was supposed to mean something to Natalie. "Let's just hope Leon Hughes isn't around too. Then the trouble would really start."

"What?" Natalie sputtered. She turned, wide-eyed towards her friend at the sound of his name. "What does that mean?"

Nyra quirked a brow at her, shooting her a suspicious look. "Don't you know? He gets into fights all the time. Why do you think he has no friends? He's all sorts of trouble."

She did know that, but she'd chosen to forget it in favour of remembering his golden eyes and raspy voice instead. Her frown deepened and she looked back to Lucas, hesitating. 

"Well, Lucas is his friend."

Nyra snorted. "Yeah, and look at him."

Natalie could see her point. He stood there, his uniform a mess—wrinkled, ripped up, folded at the sleeves. A cigarette had been propped between his lips and he released a mouthful of smoke, smirking at the girls around him.

She wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. Leon wasn't like that. Leon was quiet. He kept to himself. She was sure that he wouldn't do what Lucas was doing—flirting with girls outside the school gates, smoking.

She was sure.

"He is nice to look at though," Nyra added in a murmur. They stared for a moment longer, watching as Veronica plucked the cigarette from Lucas's lips, propping it between her own lips with a grin.

"Whatever," Natalie said eventually, sick of watching Lucas in his Sierra Grammar uniform, the image blending into a face she didn't want to imagine here. "I have to go."

"To your mum's school, huh? You think you'll see anyone cute today?" Nyra teased.

Natalie's face grew hot, but she managed to shoot back, "I doubt it."

She began walking, shoving her way through the crowd and past Veronica without a look back. Nyra jogged to catch up.

"Hey, maybe Lucas could give you a ride," she joked, tossing a look over her shoulder. "I mean, he knows the way."

Natalie knew she was joking. She rolled her eyes and didn't reply, but she followed her gaze anyway, turning back towards Lucas Morton.

Lucas Morton, who was already looking at her.

She blinked, as if to check if she was seeing things, but there he was. Looking at her.

Nyra had noticed too. "Is he..."

Natalie's mouth had gone dry. Frowning, she turned away, and muttered a simple, "He creeps me out."

Nyra agreed with a silent nod, staring over her shoulder at the boy that Natalie knew was still staring back. Her steps picked up speed and Nyra joined her, keeping pace until they reached a traffic light. The entire way, she thought she could feel Lucas' eyes burning into her back.

Nyra turned to her. "Well, my bus will be here in ten minutes. See you tomorrow?" she said.

Natalie nodded and the light behind her went off. She turned beginning to cross when Nyra called out, "Have fun with all the hotties at Sierra Grammar!"

Her face turned hot, and she sprinted the rest of the way, pretending she didn't know Nyra and that she couldn't hear her laugh from across the road.

Sierra Grammar wasn't a far walk from St Helena's. By the time Natalie had made it through the gates and walked across campus towards her mother's office, she had practically forgotten all about Lucas Morton and all of Nyra's teasing.

She knocked lightly before pushing the door open. Her mother was sat at her desk, a little golden plaque at the edge reading 'Nurse Chen'. Beside that, her laptop glared white light over her face. She didn't look up as Natalie entered.

"Mum," Natalie muttered after a second of unacknowledged silence.

Her mother's head shot up and she peered at Natalie over her glasses. "Oh! Natalie, I didn't hear you come in."

Natalie shook her head, smiling coyly. "It's fine. Are you busy?"

What she really meant was—are we going home anytime soon?

Her mother sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "I have so many emails to get through. It seems like everybody needs the school nurse today. I keep telling them we need more than one nurse for such a big school, and what do they do? Put out an ad for a part-time position. Kids don't get injured part-time."

Natalie looked at her mother with a tight smile, unsure how to react. "That's not good."

Her mother laughed at the sentiment and nodded slowly. "Yep. You alright to do homework next door for a bit? I'll be done in thirty minutes. One hour, max."

"Of course. Just call me when you're done, yeah?"

"Thank you, sweetie," she said in reply. Natalie turned to leave, beginning to shut the door behind her, when her mother called out, "Love you!"

"Love you more," she said, and closed the door.

She paused, looking down the hallway. No one was around. Her eyes drifted to the corner she'd first seen Leon slumped over in. The shadows were still there, but the boy was missing.

She wasn't sure what she expected. She knew Leon was the type to vanish for weeks, months, at a time. She wouldn't be seeing him today.

She spun, pretending she wasn't disappointed, and fished her mother's spare key out of the pocket of her skirt before unlocking the door to the sick bay. She stepped inside, breathing in the cold air of the room.

Someone had left the window open.

She crossed the room in seconds, her fingers grasping the edge of the open window, when her eyes drifted downwards.

From here, she could see the courtyard just in front of the building, leading to the front of the school.

And there he was.

She spotted him immediately, his black hair standing out against the pale bricks of the quadrangle.

Except, he wasn't alone. Another boy was with him, shoving him hard against his chest. They were shouting—no, Natalie realised. Only the other boy was shouting, loud enough that she could hear his voice from the fifth floor, but not enough that she could make out his words.

She watched, stunned, as the other boy shoved Leon again. He didn't even react. He didn't shout back, he didn't move. He barely budged as the boy grabbed his shirt, bunching it up in his fist as he yelled his final words.

With one last shove, the boy turned to leave, shouting, and spitting on the path along the way. Leon stared at the pavement, unmoving until the other boy was gone.

And he was alone.

It felt as if the air had stilled. The entire school stilled. She stilled.

And then, he was moving again, as if coming back to life. He craned his neck first, rolling his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side.

Then, slowly, his head turned upwards. His eyes didn't linger on any of the windows. No, he looked higher, passing every floor until they landed on the nurse's room—on her.

And he was looking at her.

Suddenly, all of her breath rushed back into her at once. Releasing a tiny squeal, Natalie slammed the window shut, ducking beneath the windowsill in the process.

She sat there for a moment, sprawled out against the brick wall and carpeted floor, heart pounding in her chest. Her breath was heavy, and she struggled to control it, as if Leon could hear her presence five floors above him.

Her mind began to instantly craft convenient excuses. Maybe he didn't see her through the glare of the window. Maybe she was too far away to see. How close had she been standing to the glass, anyway? But it was pointless.

There was no way he didn't see her.

She groaned, pressing her head against the bricks until her hair was caught and pulling against her scalp. He definitely saw her. Which meant he definitely saw her hide, like the complete weirdo she was.

For a second, her face was hot, and she thought she might vomit, or cry, or anything in between, out of pure embarrassment. Had anyone ever vomited out of embarrassment before? It didn't matter, Natalie would be the first.

But then she was shaking her head. Why was she so concerned about him? They had barely exchanged words. He was insignificant to her.

And her to him.

She had much more important things to worry about—like her maths homework, to start with.

Natalie stood decidedly, brushing down her skirt and fixing her ponytail in a deliberate attempt to avoid looking towards the window. But when she moved to reach for her backpack, she couldn't help herself.

She glanced over her shoulder, stamping down any remaining embarrassment stirring in her stomach. Except, the quadrangle was empty.

Leon was gone.

Natalie turned, storming towards the nurse's desk, and throwing her backpack to the floor beside it. That had confirmed it. She was worrying over nothing. He probably hadn't even seen her. It was sunny outside; the sun would have been in his eyes. Right? And who was to say he would even recognise her?

None of it mattered. Leon Hughes didn't matter.

Algebra mattered.

Tugging her book free from her school bag, Natalie began to study.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

The worst part of winter, in Natalie's opinion, was always how early the sun seemed to vanish. An hour into her maths homework, the sky had turned that dreaded orange and the day felt wasted, squandered away in a series of classrooms and textbooks.

She frowned, looking away from the blinding equations that filled her notebook to stare at amber clouds. She watched for a moment as they swirled across the sky, turning from a deep orange into a sort of purple, the day blending into the evening.

How long had she been here, sitting in this chair, her mind twisting around these numbers and letters?

A knock came at the door, and she turned, ready to tell her mum to come in, when the door began to creak open itself.

And Leon stepped into the room.

Her pencil dropped, rolling over her book and onto the floor beneath the desk.

He wasn't as bruised as he had been the first time that she saw him, or the second, but bruises still lined his jaw, a few fresh cuts standing out across his skin. His hair was ruffled, his shirt wrinkled, and a few buttons had been ripped from the top.

His eyes landed on her, and he hesitated for a moment before stepping in, shutting the door behind him, and leaning his back against it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"My mum's the school nurse," she said, like he had forgotten.

He blinked, letting out a short chuckle. "Yeah, I mean, why are you still here? School ended hours ago."

"Then, why are you still here?" she replied.

His lips twitched and she warmed, suddenly feeling shy. Her eyes fell back to the scrapes on his face, and she cleared her throat, standing from her seat.

"You're hurt," she said. "Do you want me to call the nurse for you?"

He stepped forward, a hand shooting out as if to stop her and she faltered.

"No. Sorry, I just—I don't want the school getting involved."

Natalie watched him for a moment, torn. She'd helped him before, but that had been a mistake. She shouldn't be involving herself with this boy—this stranger. But his lip was bleeding, his cheek was turning red, and she just couldn't leave him alone.

"Alright," she said, shaking her head. "But I should really clean those cuts."

He didn't seem to protest, so she turned to the sink, beginning to wash her hands.

"It'll be bad if they get infected," she explained to the silence, drying her hands, and collecting her supplies from the shelves. "And you don't want it to leave a scar."

The words left her mouth and she immediately felt stupid for saying them. She couldn't count all of his scars with both hands, what would one more be to him?

When she turned back around, he had obediently sat himself in the chair beside the nurse's desk, waiting, just like he had the other day. She paused for a moment, taking in the sight of Leon Hughes, slumped in a chair waiting quietly for her, before straightening her back and marching towards him.

He watched her as she placed the boxes and bottles onto the desk, silence engulfing the two until Natalie couldn't take the quiet any longer.

"So, first I'm going to clean your cuts," she said, her fingers moving as she poured disinfectant onto a cotton ball. "It might sting a little but just try to stay still."

She tried not to wince at how unsure her own voice sounded. Instead, she gestured towards him, and he leaned closer, tilting his face towards her. Letting out a tiny breath, she lifted his chin with one hand, the other pressing the disinfectant into the largest cut, just on the edge of his jaw.

He hissed, his head jerking slightly before he relaxed into her touch. Natalie paled, her stomach stirring.

"Sorry," she muttered. Her brow furrowed and she continued in silence. Once all the cuts on his cheek were cleaned, there was only one left—his lip.

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she looked up, glancing at his eyes. He was already watching her.

"Do you mind if..." her voice trailed off and he nodded curtly.

"Right," she murmured, turning to grab a new cotton ball soaked in disinfectant. He was already waiting for her, his chin tilted, and lips parted slightly.

She swallowed, taking his chin with unsure fingers. With a breath, she pressed the cotton to his bottom lip. She could feel his breath on her hand. She could feel a whisper of a touch of his top lip over her knuckle.

And most of all, she could feel his eyes on her.

She couldn't help it. Her eyes flickered up and there he was, inches from her, golden-brown eyes drilling into her own. Her beath was sucked out of her lungs. She thought she might die if he kept looking at her like that—or worse, if he never looked at her like that again.

She needed to get a grip.

Blinking hard, she turned, tossing the dirty cotton ball into the wastebin. Picking up a cotton tip, she smeared a thin layer of cream over each of his cuts, deliberately avoiding his gaze this time.

Her hands moved slowly, carefully. These cuts and bruises seemed fresh. Probably the cause of whatever she'd partially witnessed out the window. She didn't want to hurt him anymore.

That wasn't the only reason she was taking her time. She knew, the faster she finished, the faster he'd be gone. And when would she see him again? Would she ever?

Leon Hughes was a shadow on the walls and if she wasn't careful, she'd miss him.

Her arm lowered and she inspected his jaw for the deeper cuts, fishing band-aids out to plaster over them, protecting them from infection.

She placed the final bandage on the cut at the edge of his jaw, her fingers smoothing out the edges. He'd leave soon. Now that she was finished cleaning him up, he'd leave, and she'd be back in limbo, waiting for him to reappear.

She seemed to always be waiting these days. Ever since she first saw him in the hallways, slumped against the walls. There was something about him, about that smirk and his mysterious bruises, that seemed to pull people towards him—and push him away. It was that something that made her wait for him.

"Why do you always help me?" Leon muttered.

Natalie blinked, hoping her surprise didn't show in her movements. She looked up, meeting his eyes.

"Sorry?" she asked.

"Every time I come here—last time and today—you let me in. You don't know who I am. You don't know why I'm hurt. You could just turn me away since the nurse isn't here, but you always help me anyway. Why?"

He paused, watching as she fiddled with the plastic that she'd peeled off the Band-aids dotting his face.

"Why?" Natalie echoed. She'd never really thought about it. She looked up at him and shrugged. "I don't know. You're hurt. Why shouldn't I help you?"

"I—" he groaned, shaking his head. "You—It's just, no one's ever done that for me before."

"No one?" Natalie blinked. "Not even my mum?"

His lips twitched and she had the feeling that she'd said the wrong thing, but he was already speaking again. "If I go to your mum, they start asking questions. I don't need the school in my business."

"Then why do you come here?" she asked slowly, confused. "If you don't want the nurse treating you..."

Leon bit down on his lip, the cut turning red beneath his teeth, matching the redness creeping up his neck. "Isn't it obvious?"

"What?" Natalie blinked. She pursed her lips, brows furrowed in thought. "I don't understand."

He sighed, chuckling sardonically, his head hanging low. "I knew the nurse wasn't here when I first came."

She frowned. "When you came two weeks ago?"

"Two weeks ago," he affirmed. "Two months ago."

Two months ago.

She'd first seen him two months ago, when he sat on the floor down the hallway, watching her watching him.

He remembered that day.

He remembered her.

Her mind was reeling now, thousands of thoughts darting around.

"If you knew the nurse wasn't here, then you—"

"Wanted to see you," he finished for her.

Natalie's eyes grew wide. Suddenly, she felt very hot. "What? I thought—I mean, why would you want to—"

"I saw you go in," he explained. "And I just—I'm so stupid. I just wanted to talk to you. I wanted to hear your name. You looked so... But then I was too embarrassed to ask, and..." he trailed off, running a hand over his face. He laughed bitterly, meeting her eyes. "I'm being stupid. I know."

She'd never seen him flustered before. Suddenly this enigma of a person was taking colour—he was no longer just a shadow, but a blushing boy with eyes of bronze and hair of coal.

Natalie was silent for a moment. Her mind whirred, trying to process everything he'd just told her.

She didn't understand it.

Natalie had always been a late bloomer to love. Veronica may as well have been right when she said Natalie didn't know what a boy was. Her friends had always been busy with dates and boyfriends, but Natalie had never understood it all.

She'd never had a serious crush, and attending an all-girls school her entire life, boys were generally hard to come by.

But Leon made her heart twist in ways she'd never expected.

She was always hoping, expecting him to come bursting through that door. Maybe that was the reason she was coming here more often—on the tiny chance she might see him. That she might see his golden eyes, see his roughly cut hair, see his chiseled jaw and crooked nose.

Hear her name on his lips.

"Natalie," she said finally, her voice croaking. "My name's Natalie."

"Natalie," he repeated, her name like velvet on his tongue. He seemed to like the sound of it because he repeated it again, his voice turning low. "Natalie."

Before she could process his words, his look, he stood, straightening his shirt, and shoving a hand through his hair.

"Natalie," he said again. "I'll see you around."

Leon Hughes disappeared as quickly as he had appeared, leaving Natalie with an empty box of band-aids and a heart pounding against her ribcage, begging to go with him.

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi everyone, happy new year! my resolution is to finish this story in time for the Watty's hehe wish me luck! What are your resolutions? 

I hope you liked this super long chapter!! let me know your thoughts as always and see you next time! <3