I Know That She Loves Me

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
-'Technically, I wasn't being a stalker.'

Submitted: January 30, 2010

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Submitted: January 30, 2010

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She grimaced, putting her hair in a messy ponytail, her cell phone being pressed against her ear with her shoulder. Her lips were upturned into a grin which disappeared after someone said something over the phone. "Brad, that's not funny!" Trystan Malliet Cardison whined into the phone, a small smile tugging once again at her lips. "Well, I won't fail that test for your information..Well, yes, you are going to help me study!" She laughed, leaning against her bedpost. Then she heard a noise. Like something hitting glass. Sheblinked slowly,turning her eyes towardsthe window & expecting a huge owl or something. But she saw nothing. She walked quickly over to it, forgetting about Brad Aimley on the other line, throwing the phone on her bed. "Hello?" She said, feeling instantly stupid. Of course, if it was an animal it wouldn't answer her. All she could see was a handprint on the window. And someone was running against the street, their plaid shirt flailing behind them. She saw through the branches of trees and frowned. Was someone watching her?

Technically, I wasn't being a stalker. I mean, stalkers are 'people who prowl or sneak about; usually with unlawful intentions'. So watching her through her bedroom window wasn't stalking, since I had good intentions.. Right? It wasn't my fault that she had such alluring features. Those slender legs, oh, and her perfect smile. You say that nothing can be perfect? Well, in my opinion, her smile is indeed perfect. I have to admit it, though, it was often one-sided.

Watching her from that foggy window, my eyes piercing through it, I could see those smirk-defaulted lips moving. I could hear her voice through the thin glass. "Brad, that's not funny!" Her voice edged me to push my face even harder against the window, and my eager eyes ran over her legs, then up to her chest and over her face. The face with the eyes that were looking my way! Run, run, run! Was all that I could think. And so I did. I jumped from my safe stance on top of the tree branch and ran down the street, knowing that said tree would block her view of me.

How about I start from the very beginning?First things first, my name is Jace Alessandro McDillian. And I have been in love with Trysten Malliet Cardison for exactly a week, two days, eleven hours and seven minutes.

January thirteenth, two-thousand & ten

Her laugh broke the silence. Allen Brickage was steady with his lecture about pi and it's cosign and was taking in a gulp of air before she snorted and burst into her fit. Brad Aimleys hand clamped over her mouth, he was laughing a little with her. As was the rest of the back row. Poor Mr. Brickage wasn't able to complete his lesson, because the bell began to ring.

The girl, nameless to me at that moment, along with Brad Aimley (surprisingly he was the only name I knew then, besides all the teachers) and some others walked out of the back door of the mathematics lab, laughing even harder then. "Mr. McDillian, class has ended." And did he not think I hadn't noticed? Ah, perhaps that's why everyone was walking out of the door. Div. I simply nodded my head and gathered my books, following the other group out of the back door.

The girl was with Brad Aimley, (no one ever just calls him Brad- says Haley Pinckley), they were standing against his locker. His muscular body practically made her frail one disappear. While at my own locker, I stared at them. I couldn't help it, she was a sight to see. Fit. As my eyes flicked over every visible part of her body, every piece of skin, I felt eyes watching me. "Look there, Tryst, new boy has his eye on you." Honestly Brad Aimley, I'd rather have my hands on her. The girl looked over at me and grimaced, her (delectable) nose wrinkling.

"Nosey parker, wouldn't you say?" Another one from their group said, but I kept my eyes on her. Only her. I only had my (dashing green) eyes for her! 'O! She doth teach the torches to burn bright'. William Shakespeare must have known how I was feeling, and thought up thatline just for me to say to her. I opened my mouth, taking a few steps towards her. Brad Aimley pulled her away, and their group started walking again. Quickly, might I add, away from me.


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