~*Thank you to all those readers who have been kind to me by not flaming this story as of yet. I greatly appreciate it! Well this one is finished and there will be no sequel, coz this one took long enough but I will be typing others if you wish to read. –Risma*~

Sweet No-such-things

Epilogue: It's Written in the Heavens

Nilah's weekend was long but productive. Since the incident in the chat-room, she didn't find the need to switch on the computer and talk to an imposter. She put all her energy into studying the subjects she missed in the last week. All her assignments were up to date and all the exercises for every subject were completed.

On Monday an overwhelming feeling set up residence in her stomach and the impulse to be sick was making her knees shake. Every thought was trained on the front doors of school and the faces of people she knew but never met.

(It's going to be a long day . . .)

Her brain went into automatic as she followed her usual morning procedure. She was dressed, but it took three looks as she passed the hallway mirror to realise that her shirt was inside out. The idea of being sick forced her to avoid breakfast, so she packed up her stuff and took the usual route to school.

Somehow, she wasn't all there. Nilah was too preoccupied with the way all the students would react after the fiasco in the hall and she knew one student would definitely see her in a different light. Her pace slowed without consulting her brain and her feet dragged her to the corner of Madeline Street. She stared down the road, out of habit, for a small shape riding a bike, when she quickly snapped back to reality and rushed across the road in case the familiar shape did show up. Eventually she made it to the gates and just stood there debating whether or not to take the plunge. Suddenly a hand tapped her on the shoulder and she froze.

"Hiya Nilah!" squeaked a little voice and she saw Tracy, the hall monitor, skip off to her group of popular friends. Tracy, though small, always had the power to make students feel intimidated. It could've been because she was a third black belt in karate or that fact that when she bellows an order the tiles on the roof fall onto the grass. Perhaps it was telekinesis but at that point in time Tracy turned around to Nilah and waved along with everyone else in the circle around her. Nervously her hands managed a timid wave before her shoes raced her inside.

Nilah carefully walked as close to the lockers as possible, to avoid any human contact then turned the corner to run into a conversation among the football team. Most of the built guys were still in their singlets from weights training that morning and in their exhaustion, it took them a few seconds to realise who the shaking girl was standing among them. "Hey Nilah how was your weekend?" grinned Brett.

She turned to reply when a low whistle came from another guy. "Nilah . . . where have you been hiding all my life?"

"Knock it off Steve. That's no way to talk to a lady."

"Hey it's the truth ain't it. She's sexy in a simple way."

"You know, Steve's right. Nilah what are you doing on Friday?"

"Would you be able to help me with my Maths?"

"Nilah have you seen 'When Mud Monsters Attack'? I've got two tickets."

With a couple of nods in the right places and weak smiles she backed out of the group of hormone crazy guys and sped off, hiding behind her school bag until she reached her locker. The trembling hands made the lock take forever to open and when it did she shoved her head in it to calm herself down a take deep breaths.

(So you're cloak of invisibility has worn off and you may never be able to sneak into the guy's changing rooms ever again without being noticed. Is it really that big a deal?)

"Yes!" she groaned. With this much attention focused on her everyone would soon see the faults that she had and she'd be a cruel joke once more. The thought of humiliation was making her queasy again and she stuck her head back in the locker to take deep breaths. She closed her eyes, trying to relax and soon she was feeling fine again, thanks to the smell of mould. She opened her eyes and saw a folded piece of blue paper stuck to the back of the metal box. Reaching forwards, she tore off the paper and quickly opened it.

(Who could possibly know the combination to my locker? I never told anyone. Mind you I don't have anyone to tell in the first place.)

"In the famous words of Galileo; 'All you have to do is look up.'" She whispered to herself, instantly turning to gaze towards the spit-ball coloured ceiling. There, stuck to a small space, not invaded by hostile spit-balls, was another bit of blue paper. "I meant outside!" she read, frowning at the stupidity of it all. Nilah glared down at her watch to check how long she had to play this stupid game.

(Fifteen minutes. Just fifteen minutes to find out who this sicko is who had broke open my locker! Now what did they mean by outside. . ?)

Someone brushed past her shoulder and the stench of stale water floated past as well as some very relaxed students. A stringy blonde turned around to see who he had crashed into and lifted his cap as well as the corners of his mouth. "Hey look fellas," the group turned to Nilah with spacey expressions. "It's that mute chick. You know, the one who never talks . . . heh heh . . ."

"Oh yeah . . ." his friend agreed. "Hey Mute Chick . . ." he sighed as he threw her a limp wave. Nilah tried to avoid eye contact with the group of guys and stared past their shoulders to the rest of the cohort crowding around the entrance stairs.

"Hey," she murmured absently as she moved past them as if in a trance.

"Did you hear that? She spoke . . ."

"Guess we have to call her The Not-So-mute Chick now . . ."

"What kind of parents would call their kid that?"

"I don't know . . ."

The blaring light from outside seemed to drown the slow heavy voices behind her as she took her last steps out into the open and flicked her eyes up to the sky. There, in fluffy white writing, was A132.

(A132? What the heck is A132?)

It seemed she wasn't the only one confused. Every student around her was murmuring about the weird message from above.

"IT'S ALIENS! ALIENS! THEY'RE HERE TO TAKE SUBJECT A132 AWAY WITH THEM!!! AAAUUUUGGGHHHH!!!" A scrawny year eighter scrambled through the crowd screaming back into the school building. The mob stopped staring after the howling pre-teen and got back to the topic at hand.

(I know what it is! It's one of the computers in the library!)

Nilah slowly backed out of the crowd and ran down the hall to the very last room. She skidded to a halt, pulled herself through the doorway and into a reserved cubicle. There on the screen was tiny text box.

[Type in password]

(Alright . . . nilah.)

[Incorrect. Type name here]

(How about . . . bradshaw?)

[Incorrect. Type name here]

(O-kay . . . nilahbradshaw?)

[Incorrect. Type name here]

(FINE!!! Nilah Bradshaw.)

[Incorrect. Type name here]

By this time, someone had mentioned that it was the identification tag on one of the computers in the library and all the students from outside had silently moved into the room and waited behind Nilah. She swivelled around in her seat to see all the nosy students who just smiled nervously at her, anticipating some huge surprise from the monitor. Nilah slowly turned back to the monitor and hopelessly dropped her head in her hands.

(What's this stupid password? How do I even know this message is from me? The fool who started this thing could've put it in the wrong locker to start with . . . it doesn't have anything-)

A small smile crept to her lips as she remembered one name she hadn't typed in. Quickly her fingers flew over the keyboard and then quickly crossed themselves for luck. 

A gentle tune started to play over the speaker as a rose coloured webpage appeared on the screen. There were exploding stars, little dragons breathing fire and a rose covered border around a very special message.

Dear StarChild,

I know you have been deceived and by cruel intention on my part. The night I met you in the chat room was sheer fate. You were the one who helped me in my times of need and I took up your advice about the poem in the locker. Well I couldn't write a poem so I 'borrowed' a quote instead. Hope you don't mind. In closing, I am sorry for any frustration or pain I may have caused you and I understand if you never accept my apology.

I've stuffed up a lot haven't I? What did you expect from a fool in love? I should leave this now before I re-read it and delete it. I'm waiting where you'll find me.

From The Bumbling Talon.

"Awww . . ."

"Isn't that the sweetest thing . . ."

"How come you never do that for me?"

Nilah didn't hear anything behind her she was too busy smiling and off in a daze.

"I suppose the question of the century is, who did it?" came a wheezing twangy voice from the back of the room. Nilah turned around to see Rudolf Feinster in the clutches of two girls who were crooning over him. Nilah raised an eyebrow at him and he blushed.

"Who is he?"

"I bet he's dreamy."

"I know," Nilah quietly whispered as she stumbled out of the room and into the hallway again. She walked down past her locker, jogged past Mr Knight and an arm full of revision notes and finally flew out the front doors of Groundson High School.

Tearing up the footpath in front of her, she quickly turned the corner and found herself sprawled along the ground. Bracing herself on her elbows, she shook her head and stared at her assailant. Blonde wavelets were creeping out from underneath a baseball cap and the huge pair of sunglasses hid most of the angelic face, but Nilah didn't have time to laugh at her old 'friend'.

"Trixie, tell them I'm sick! I've got malaria! No better leprosy! Okay? Bye!" and with that she was around the corner and back on track.

Finally she stopped and leaned against the pole directing people to Madeline Street as she attempted to retrieve her usual breathing pattern for the second time that day. She sagged heavily against the pole and took a slow look around for any suspicious males.

(No he's not here yet. Good.)

"Man you're fast when you want to be!" A deep panting voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end and as quick as a flash she was whisked off her feet and spun around in the air. The two strong hands soon placed her back on solid ground before her turned on her heel to face the only person she had tried to avoid that morning. It was all too surreal. Here was the only guy, fellow, no prince she had ever dreamed of and all his undivided attention was on her. Simple geekish brainiac Nilah. His raven hair now plastered across his forehead, his Billabong shirt a little damp from the run but what captured her was the two deep blue eyes resting on her own. She didn't know what to say to a marvel like him. No words were coming to mind at all. Not one. But at that second it didn't matter because she wouldn't have been able to get a word past his lips.

(Please, oh please don't let this be a dream! I'll do anything to keep this real . . . anything . . .)

Slowly Max broke the kiss as Nilah's eyes fluttered open. Drowsy from the head-spin, it took a while before his face came into focus and a big grin shone down at the girl in his arms.

Nilah scowled through her glasses at the pools of blue skiting back and forth across her face, trying to understand the sudden change of attitude in her. "Your eyes are very mischievous," she growled. Then without her acknowledgment, her hands slipped up behind his head and pulled him down for another kiss.

Nilah the visible beauty was finally ready to shine. 

The End.