(I've decided I may as well start using the diaries I get for Christmas every year)
I love my place in English. I can sit at the window and the thing I can see, right in front of me, is him. I look up and I can see his face; his pale pink lips, his dark eyes, his pale skin, his high eyebrows, his messy brown hair. Every inch of that face, I loved. It was what I thought of late each night, it had appeared in my dreams, it was what I longed to see every day. His face is what I wish for, hurry to school to see, what keeeps me going.
But still it was torture to have to look at it, knowing I can’t touch it. That face must remain at that distance forever. Because he has never seen the colour of my eyes, never properly spoken to me, never even wished me a nice evening as I left school to face another night of wishing on stars. He had his own girlfriend, Vanessa Taylor, the most popular girl in school. Why would he turn to me, the hidden girl, over her?
There isn’t any hope really. So I sank back into a dark mood. I like being in dark moods. It gives you time to think things over, and you don’t have to talk to anyone. Then again I might have passive aggression issues.
Phoebe slipped onto the corner seat next to me.
‘Hey.’ she whispered. I glared at her.
‘What’s up?’ she sounded slightly hurt. I glared again.
‘Okay, I’ll leave. She got up and walked away. I watched her sit down next to Sarah and immediately start chatting. I felt bad. I shouldn’t have been mean to her really. She’s a nice girl, well to me anyway. It’s just who I am though. When I’m sad or angry, I have to be alone, or else.
I continued to stare at the boy in front of me. His longish brown hair shook when he moved his head, in the most tempting fashion. Had I been allowed, I would be playing with it, running my hands through it. But I was not allowed, so it tempted me form a distance, unfortunately.
Just then, Miss Lawrence walked into the room, ten minutes late, as usual. We stood up and greeted her as usual, then she told us to take out our books, so we could continue reading Romeo and Juliet, same parts as last time. You might think, as most stories would go, that if we read Romeo and Juliet then I get Juliet and he gets Romeo and it’s happy ever after, he realises he’s in love with me, blah blah blah. Well not in this story. In this story, he’s Mercutio, and a fine Mercutio he makes. I’m one of Juliet’s maids. It’s the scene where Mercutio gets killed. I savoured his voice until it ended when he died.
Oh god I love him.