Meeting Her

"How was it?" Elizabeth asked with an impatient tone. She frowned at the chip in her nails as she walked beside me. I knew she was being polite, what she really wanted was to talk about her day at art school. "Fine," I said nonchalantly, then repeated her question back at her. She slowed her pace down and grabbed my hand. "You would not believe the crazy stuff that happened to me today! In first period there was this boy who-."

The thing to know about Eli is that she can out talk anyone. It sounds rude, but most of the time I just block out majority of the conversation and listen for the important bits. Besides, listening to her talk about the atrocious fashion choices her teachers made doesn't sound even remotely interesting to me.

"Anyways, it was awful. But besides her clothes, she was a decent teacher. I think she was teaching something about Shakespeare? Wait, no. Wasn't she the math teacher?" She pouted her lips as she pondered. "Miss Walters," her driver said, opening the door for her. "Hello Audrey, did you get my schedule from father?" Turning to me, she said, "Did you want a ride today? It wouldn't be out of the way." Shaking my head, "I like to walk. Call me when you're not busy?" Without responding she ducked her head into her very expensive, foreign car.

The walk home wasn't terrible, and I knew Audrey wouldn't appreciate the detour. Elizabeth wasn't interested in how my day went, but I knew my mother would be. This gave me time to consider what to tell her. Most of my teachers seemed very kind, and so far I didn't have any trouble with the other students. I managed to not attract any attention to myself, which was a bonus no matter how you looked at it. The next day I'd have different classes, so I hoped I'd be able to successfully manage to do the same.

When I look back at how I used to be, I can't help but think that I was a coward. Avoiding people, trying not to stand out, rarely interacting with anyone. This was how I managed through my first year of high school.

I would've continued this pattern into my second year if it weren't for Sona.

The first thing you'd notice about her was her height. Barely a meter and a half tall, with a small face, hands, and feet. Then you'd notice her radiant green eyes and long blonde hair. She wasn't the most attractive girl in school, but somehow her faults seemed beautiful to me too. I always believed that I was a cold person. I wasn't capable of feeling love like this for seventeen years of my life.

I told myself that my attraction to her was like my attraction to Elizabeth. So I made it my mission to become friends with her. I sought her out in crowds and at lunch. Luckily, we seemed to have the same humor, so we got along very well. She became my partner in science, and we worked together in group projects.

The crazy feeling I had kept growing as I got to know her. Making her smile became my goal every single day. All I wanted was to see her laugh, or twitch her nose when she was nervous, or listen to her hum to whatever pop song played on her radio that morning.

It was on a Wednesday morning, during a history lecture, that life changed. I was embarrassed because she caught me looking at her, so when she called my name, I was expecting her to tell me how creepy I was being. I wasn't expecting her to say, "Wanna go on a date this Saturday?"