Have you ever guessed my thoughts whenever I look at you?
When I see you, I think 'Why? Why do you make me feel like this?'
The hallway was packed with students walking to their respective classes, I was standing next to my locker when you past by and I appeared, once again, unnoticed by your beautiful, sapphire eyes. You walked by so perfect and so popular, always followed by the same throng of beautiful people behind you, leaving every girl in the high school holding their breaths when you as much as looked at them with those tender eyes of yours and the disarming smile. I blinked back to normalcy and repeated to myself the steps of breathing; inhale and exhale. I closed my locker room, shouldered my bag, and slowly walked to my class wondering about you.
Have you ever noticed that skinny girl standing, just standing, and staring at you from behind those huge glasses framing her eyes? I knew the answer right away, it wasn't a concrete answer though, and it was more of a rhetorical question in response, something like this: 'Why would he even care looking your way when there were many other girls much prettier and much smarter than you?'.
I know your schedule by heart and I know where to stand to have a better view of you whenever you pass by, but although I can only see you during few passing seconds I feel happy for those moments. I have fictional mental conversations with you every night and all of them end with 'When will you realize that I'm there?'.
That day, that moment, was no different than the rest of other countless breath-taking moments I've experienced. My heart fluttered and a whirlwind of emotions took control of my body, rendering it almost to the point in which I forgot to breathe. You are so beautiful with your confident stride, friendly smile, and amiable composure; I wish I had you only for me. I wished those eyes and those lips belonged to me only.
I walked quietly into my next class and sat unblinkingly, waiting for my professor to come and bore us with history. I let my mind drift meanwhile, into daydreams of you and your smile. I am not the girl that would fall for you or even fathom of doing so. I am plain compare to you but deep in my soul I feel I can fill your hands with something greater than love and perhaps make you very happy. If only you could give me a chance, if only you could spare some seconds of your life and look at me. However strongly I wished for it to occur, it was unlikely to do so. What could I attract of him? I wondered aloud.
"Your attention will suffice, Miss Matthews," my stubby professor stared at me with surprise mingled with annoyance. "I think you should spend some time in the detention room for the rest of my class period and while you're there you should look for your head. God knows where kids leave their minds these days. It is very unlike you to daydream, Matthews." He wrote the feared detention slipped and brought it to me. He handed the slim slip of white paper to me and offered me a sympathetic smile.
I took the paper, appalled, and sighed. Everybody was as shocked as my professor. I had never been sent to the detention room or caught doing anything wrong that merited such academic punishment, but here I was slowly making my way out of the room. I was too embarrassed and ashamed of myself to make eye contact with my classmates; it was their sneering faces I wanted to avoid.
I walked to the detention room and I cursed you, for making me think of you so often. I opened the door and handed the slip to the teacher in charge of the room during that class period and I sat on one of the unoccupied desks, waiting for the clock to slowly tick away the minutes until my release. I cradled my head on my hands and drummed my fingers on the desk. The door opened again and I saw you.
You handed the slip to the teacher and sat next to me because that was the only available desk left. My breath was caught in my throat and my heart beat accelerated its sluggish pace. We were no more than two feet apart but you still didn't look at me and I refused to look at you. My heart danced out of happiness and agony. I created mental scenarios of how to strike up a conversation with you but everything ended with an uncomfortable silence. I had you so close to me but I couldn't bring myself to tell you anything without completely overdoing it. I was at loss of words.
I glanced at the clock; it was five minutes till release time. I had silently suffered a thirty-minute agony next to you, not exactly what I planned for our first meeting. My pencil rolled off my desk and fell on the floor, the sound and subsequent echo were the strongest and loudest sound I'd ever hear. I cringed and cursed the pencil for its evil doings. I also cringed as I saw you bend down, pick up the pencil, and put it on my desk. I looked at you from behind the rims of my glasses and managed a polite smile. You returned it with your oh so charming smile.
"You're the girl that I see every morning standing next to her locker," you said, surprising me with delight and confusion.
"You've seen me?" I asked in surprise, blushing.
"It is hard not to," you said, "You’re there every day. I'm sorry I've never introduced myself." You extend your hand for me to shake it, "I am Christian, nice to meet you."
I let my mouth hung open for few seconds before taking your hand, "I am Clare." We start talking and I feel happy. All this time, I had hidden my face from you with a paper bag but you knew what was hidden beneath it all this time.