The wind was cool in my hair as I made my way along the silent street. A slight fog clung to the buildings, as if they were superstars who married overnight and divorced by the next morning, as soon as their girlfriends got home. I turned up my Ipod to alleviate the eeriness of the scene. It didn’t work much. David Ford sang passionately in my ears about the how fucked up the world is. I smiled with it. I agreed. After experiencing the events of the previous night and that morning you’d be crazy not to agree. I was…changing. I didn’t want to. But I was. ‘ It’s just a phase. ’ I keep telling myself, and then his huge, slightly slanted, dark…beautiful eyes obstruct my vision, causing my heart to leap and my chest to hurt for the next few minutes. Considering how much I thought of him…Well…I was in constant pain. I spat in disgust at the slight metallic taste that found its way into my mouth. ‘ I don’t even know the poor boys name! ‘ I screamed at myself, not sure whether I actually shouted it or just thought it. My concerns were answered by the suspicious glances from the occupants of the bus stop as I rounded the corner. I glared at the unoffending ground, looking for something to blame, then his eyes leapt right back into my mind again and the pain continues.

The bus trip was long, and tedious. I sweated uncontrollably in the close quarters. People glared at my offensive, bulky wetness and I felt myself give up. My eyes filled with pitiful little drops of hot, salty water. I tried to fight them, but it didn’t happen. Glen Hansard was telling me how he had to dream awake. The slow tune didn’t help. I flipped open my Ipod case as the bus sped over railway lines. I slipped and almost fell from my seat. Catching myself I moodily bashed the buttons to bring up Marilyn Manson. I sighed in relief at the booming metal noise. The bus rocked around the corner, dreadfully close to the gutter. I gritted my teeth in frustration, telling myself, to calm my nerves, ‘ we’re almost there, just a few more minutes. ’   It didn’t help whatsoever. Finally we reached our destination and I clambered down the muddy steps onto the muddy grass and proceeded quickly up the muddy footpath into the muddy school. It had rained heavily here last night, it seemed. The remaining humidity combined with the glaring sun didn’t help. Who needs a sprinkler when you could have me? I watered the grass alongside the footpath all the way to the green, treed area where I sit and wait for the day to finish or to simply die, whichever came first… Unfortunately, the day ending usually won.

I trudged wearily towards the blue, inconveniently placed bench with the weight of the world on my shoulders. Or was that my backpack? I couldn’t tell anymore. They seem to have merged. I threw my bag down, that was definitely better, and sighed in disgust as the wind brushed my back, sending an icy chill through the wet patches of my blue shirt. I yawned with tiredness, even though I wasn’t tired, perhaps it was boredom, I couldn’t tell between the two of them anymore, either. His face crept into my mind and I didn’t try to stop it. Instead, I let it come. I tried to remember every little exquisite detail, only to find I couldn’t. What was the exact shape of his hairstyle? Exactly how big was his nose? Which position did his mouth hold when he was smiling? I found myself wishing to see him again, to fill in the blanks. Maybe then it wouldn’t be so horrifying. I yawned again as I wondered, lying down and closing my eyes.

The ground was cold, I soon found out after I rolled onto it from the bench. I’d woken suddenly, at the soft shake of a hand. I had dreamt, but all memory of what vanished as soon as I caught a glance of who had woken me. His beautiful eyes held mine. I stared, mouth open at the plain prettiness his features held. I drank it all in, slowly, my eyes roaming over every crevice, every rise, like an explorer on a mission. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and I swallowed the movement whole. Looking a little uncomfortable, he turned away, saying over his shoulder in a minimally accented, chiming voice, “The bell rang. Thought you should get up, you know?” He hesitated, “Rough night last night?” I was shocked, and before I could stop them, the words spewed from my mouth.

“Yeah, I kept thinking of…” I stalled, terrified at what I’d been about to say ever so casually. Oh what power he had over me. I tried to salvage what little dignity I had left. Standing up straight, I restarted. “Yeah, I don’t sleep well at the moment.” He chuckled at my blunder and changed the subject.

“I’ve seen you around a lot. What classes do you take?” He turned back.

“Um.” I wracked my brain, trying to think. “Ah, Maths B, English, Physics, Ancient History, Modern History and…Something else. Um.” He chuckled again. I flushed with embarrassment. “Oh yeah, and Chemistry!” I declared. “What about you?” The bell rang again and he ignored my question.

“Oh, damn, I should probably go. Wouldn’t want to be late on my second day, would I?” I chuckled feebly, too late for the joke. He left quickly then, leaving me in an absolute daze. I shouted out after him, stupidly, clumsily,

I roared in disgust as soon as he left earshot. How could I be so stupid? Why was it him who found me!? I considered just skipping school that day. Leaving the grounds and taking the two-hour walk home in the humid sun. I shook my head, as if answering my own thoughts. I wouldn’t be able to see him again, that day, if I just went home. And I desperately wanted to rectify the mistakes I’d made that morning. I shoved off to class. English. Fun.