Flight, Sincerely OPEN

[STEPHEN JAMES ADAMS]

Stephen inhaled the day's fresh air. Classes hadn't begun yet, but everyone was on campus getting ready for the coming semester. There were new students getting to know the campus, there were people moving dorm rooms, and some, like himself, just getting back into Rosewood's routine. He decided to take a walk with nature today. Some days Stephen really enjoyed the outdoors, and some days he just didn't want to be around the pollen or quiet. Today, though, was definitely an in-tune day with nature. He wanted to feel the sun shining on his face and the grass beneath his feet.

Stephen chose a quiet garden full of colorful flowers and stone benches and rarely a sidewalk in sight. It was one of those gardens where you had to get in the true nature to see its beauty. Some enjoyed gardens but hated getting their shoes wet with the grass or feeling the textures on their hands. But Stephen wasn't one of those. He loved to be surrounded by something's true self. He was by no means a gardner, though his grandmother had tried again and again to help him along. He just didn't have the knack for it the way some did, but he still tried every once in a while.

Today, though, was about just enjoying the nature, and possibly getting some inspiration for a piece of his oratorio. He wanted to have a piece of nature in it. He wanted it to be a sort of background the whole time, and then coming forth in parts to show its beauty. It was winter, so there wasn't a lot in bloom, but Stephen wanted to touch every part of nature's life in the oratorio, not just the well-known spring flowers.

Stephen sat down in the grass and laid on his back, watching the clouds, until something, or someone, interrupted his thoughts...

[BRIDGET PAIGE MOORE]

outfit

It shouldn't have been so difficult to make a decision. Truthfully, Bridget knew that the best decision for her career was to take the opportunity she was being given to transfer to RWA. Even if she'd only be attending the school for a year, it would be a year of learning from accomplished, well-respected professionals within her field. It would give her an edge. In fact, probably the only way she would ever find her way onto a professional dance troupe would be with the support of the faculty at RWA. But she wasn't entirely sure that was what she wanted. Yes, dance was the one thin that consistently made sense to her. But if she followed that dream, there was a good chance she'd lose what she left behind. She'd lose the person she once was. She'd lose her best friend. She'd lose the possibility of anything that could ever happen between them.

Still, until she offered RWA a definitive answer, she had to continue going through the steps of their admissions process. First on the list was a tour of their campus. She'd seen most of it from the other side of the gates, but being inside was more than a little intimidating. Particularly when her tour guide, a young woman who was a senior at the academy herself, had decided to finish up the tour by letting Bridget explore a bit on her own.

Wandering around the grounds made her feel more than a bit lost, which wasn't one of Bridget's favorite things. It brought up a host of insecurities and made her feel very small. Within seconds, she found herself wondering if anything could change so much as to make her actually feel comfortable on this side of those foreboding gates. Maybe she was meant to stay out. Maybe she wasn't meant to be anything better than the girl she'd always been.

Having lost herself entirely to her thoughts, Bridget had failed to keep track of where she was going. She'd also failed to pay attention to her surroundings, which led to a distinctively uncharacteristic lack of grace as her slippered foot caught on a root. With a startled cry, Bridget toppled to the ground. Instantly, a blush heated her cheeks, and she found herself incredibly thankful for the fact that she'd thought to wear jeans rather than a skirt. Now she just had to hope that she'd been lucky enough not to attract attention from her potential fellow classmates. Letting out a sigh, she glanced around her. Another mortified blush flooded her cheeks as she realized she'd fallen to the ground not five feet away from a boy, who was bound to think her ridiculously clumsy. So much for making a good impression.

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[STEPHEN JAMES ADAMS]

Stephen was enjoying the peace and quiet and comfortable sense of nature when he heard a noise. It was the sound of a girl crying out or something like that, to his ears. Stephen immediately looked up to see what had happened. Although he wasn't much for social interaction with most people, Stephen was a generally caring, considerate, thoughtful guy and he knew he needed to find out what had happened.

When Stephen sat up and looked where the noise had come from, he found a girl about his age, on the ground. From the noise she had made, Stephen guessed she'd tripped on something or stumbled over an object she hadn't seen. It wasn't a hard thing to do in a garden, especially if you were lost in its beauty, admiring its every inch (except, of course, the inch of it on the ground, where one would have tripped). Stephen's reflexes were to immediately help the girl up and to see if she was okay. Growing up with grandparents as his guardians, he had a natural want to care for people.

Stephen quickly began to move toward the girl. When he saw her look his way, he gently spoke to her. "Hey, are you all right?" Stephen tried his best to speak softly, but loud enough for the girl to hear. He didn't know the girl at all; didn't know if she would be loud and proud or quiet and soft-spoken. Either way, he didn't want to scare her off. He was simply trying to be courteous and a gentleman to the poor girl.

As Stephen thought about it, he realized he didn't recognize the girl at all. She couldn't possibly go to Rosewood as a senior; he knew every person in his class. Unless, of course, she was a transfer for her last semester. Otherwise, Stephen guessed she would be a younger student or a visitor; the two most likely options. He figured he should probably introduce himself and ask the girl her name and everything an introduction would call for. But, for now, he just wanted to make sure she wasn't seriously hurt or anything. He moved to her side and offered a smile and a hand to help her up.

Stephen waited to see what the girl would do. A million thoughts raced through his mind in the mere seconds that passed as he wondered what her reaction would be and what she would say next to him; the boy who was just simply trying to help her up and give her a hand.

[BRIDGET PAIGE MOORE]

As fiercely as she might have wished she could just disappear, it seemed that fate had other plans. The boy who had been sprawled on the grass before seemed intent on checking on her. Really, it was sweet of him. It just made it incredibly difficult for her to pretend nothing had happened. So, cheeks blazing with embarrassment, she first endeavored to ignore him. That proved futile, though, and she bit her lower lip, wondering how she was supposed to respond to his gentle question. He seemed harmless enough, though, and Bridget let out a short, nervous laugh before turning to look at him. "I'm fine. I guess I should pay a little more attention. You probably think I'm such a klutz. I'm not, though. Not usually, anyway. I'm actually a dancer. Not that you could tell from the way I so gracefully interrupted you..."

Bridget's cheeks heated up again as she realized she was rambling. Now, she sounded as ridiculous as she looked! As it was, though, the boy didn't seem to mind. Actually, he seemed pretty okay with sticking around. Offering him a hesitant smile, she placed her hand in his, letting him help her to her feet. "Thanks," she murmured, effectively clamping her mouth shut before she managed to start rambling again.

Once she was safely on her feet again, Bridget brushed at her pants and tugged at her sweater. She raked a hand through her hair and adjusted her headband. Finally, satisfied that she couldn't look as disheveled as she felt, she offered the boy a genuine smile. "I'm Bridget," she offered, sticking a hand out toward him. "I'm... um... I was wait listed, and I guess it looks like I might be transferring next year, so I was supposed to be on a tour. And the girl... I can't even remember her name now. But she decided to let me explore on my own," she explained sheepishly, carefully leaving out the fact that she was supposed to be auditioning for a scholarship soon. She figured pointing out her family's stunning lack of income would probably not bode well at an academy primarily populated by rich kids.

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[STEPHEN JAMES ADAMS]

Stephen listened to the girl ramble on. He listened carefully and attentively to what she had to say. She seem to pack a lot of words for such a little person. Stephen never said much, so it wasn't a bad thing that she said so much. It would be good to fill the silence his lack of words would undoubtedly create. Stephen only ever said what he needed to say. Otherwise, he kept his mouth shut. He never wanted to make more trouble than he was worth and did his very best not to.

As the girl finally accepted his offer to help her, Stephen took the chance to give her a once over. He heard her when she had said she was a dancer. He had heard ballet dancers he had met say they were the clumsiest of people, so he had no trouble believing someone who had tripped could be a dancer. But, looking at the ground, he also noticed its uneven state and the root sticking out of the ground near where her feet had been when she was lying on the ground. Stephen looked up and returned her hesitant smile with a gentle one and her thanks with a simple, mumbled "My pleasure."

Stephen waited for the girl to get herself settled. When she introduced herself, he was ready to return the introduction and give her his name but she went on before he could say a single word. She did, however, extend her hand when she introduced herself. Stephen greatly accepted her hand as she talked on and returned her more genuine, sure-looking smile with another gentle one of his own. Although Stephen was often short on words, his smiles were always there. They weren't always big and bright, but they were his smiles, and as his grandma would always tell him, "Smiles can't be taken away, but you can choose to give them." As he listened to her words, Stephen didn't mind giving her his couple of smiles. She sounded nice enough, though Stephen wasn't much of a judge of character. "I'm Stephen. It's nice to meet you, Bridget." Stephen offered her another gentle smile and waited to see what Bridget would do next.