"'I heart Tom Delaney'? Isn't he that weird kid in Mr. Field's class?" Mary asked. She was sitting on a bench outside the baseball diamond at their school. Her best friend Anna, was beside her, drawing on the inside cover of her notebook.
"He's not weird, he's..." Anna trailed off failing to find a good adjective.
"He's weird," her friend finished for her.
"Clever," Anna corrected.
"He's always disappearing. There one minute sitting in the back of class and then suddenly he's gone. Never says anything either. Half a semester and not word out of him. You have to admit that's a bit odd."
"He'll speak when he's ready to," she defended, not even looking up from her sketch.
The bell rang and Mary got up to leave. She looked at her friend who seemed content to stay. Mary shrugged and headed off. A minute later Tom Delaney materialized beside Anna.
"Odd?" he inquired of her.
"Don't worry about Mary, she doesn't understand the burden to create."
Anna ran her hand through his hair and looked lovingly into his eyes.
"Soon," she whispered to him, "soon you'll be more than just my imagination."