Staring Contest
He was staring at me today. My first thought was “ew, why the hell does it have to be me?” Then it grew on me a bit until I decided that the polite thing to do was shoot him a smile and stare back into those gorgeous melty brown eyes. He frowned, so I frowned. I turned to the person seated next to me and she rolled her eyes.
“You really think he was staring at you?” She asked, her eyes cold and tone heartless.
“Well, um, I don’t know, maybe,” I stuttered. My face felt like a smoldering fire, burning red until my lips turned blue from the breath I held in.
She scoffed and waved at him behind my back. He smiled his crooked smile and I just put my eyes on my paper again. I should have known better. No one stares at a pimply faced girl with ratty shoulder length auburn hair, brown eyes, thick eyebrows, and tattoos. Well, maybe they do but certainly not the way I’d wish they would. They definitely take no interest in genuine people smart enough to do the work; the ones cheated on- nerds.
At the moment, my fingers sweat and my hairline became wet from the anxiety bubbling from the pit of my stomach as they stared at each other, me in the middle. My pencil slipped and fell on my paper. I turned around and strained my eyes to look at the clock.
Twenty-three minutes until lunch. Twenty-three minutes and thirty seconds until I was far away from the gross staring contest. The longest, most torturous twenty-three minutes of my life and it didn’t help that I had to sit next to him in my next class. Fifty-eight minutes until I begin the next brutal session.
When lunch finally came, and it did come after Katelyn had stuck her nose around my paper and scribbled down the answers, I retrieved my black and red worn out lunch sack from my friend’s locker and found a seat against the wall on the last open table. A few of my friends joined me carrying new trendy lunch boxes and I paused my chewing and smiled with my mouth closed.
Cassidy was a pretty one, long black hair and fare tan skin. Her eyes were an endless pit of dark brown that I continuously found myself falling in and her nose was childlike and pierced. Her feet swing from the finished wooden bench as she unpacked her food. Mini tacos, one of my personal favorites: miniature corn tortilla packages full of deceit and lies. I believed for a year that her mother made them from scratch, to make a long story short, I found them in the freezer section of Krogers. Nonetheless, I still loved them.
I took another bite of my Ramen Noodles and said, “I have a problem.”
“Among others,” Hope said, unwrapping a PB & J. She smiled at me devilishly, her eyes sparkling.
“Yeah, but this one is worse.”
“Always is,” Cassidy pitched in.
“Sure it is. Katelyn caught me looking at Flue but it looked like he was staring at me.” I swallowed the noodles and my stomach eerily heated up as they slid down the numerous tubes in my body. I shivered.
“Oof,” Cassidy said.
“Yeah, I mean, how stupid can I be to actually think that he was looking at me when Kately is sitting right. Next. To. Me?” I suddenly lost my appetite just thinking about it and tossed my spork into the trash can next to our table, twisted the lid on my thermos, and placed it back into my lunch sack.
“Pretty stupid,” Hope laughed.
I smiled weakly and nodded. “Gee thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
I rested my chin on my fist, thinking. I’ve liked Flue since I seen him my first day at this school last year. His dark brown hair was gorgeously curly on the top of his head, the sides cut short. He had a sweet but manly sent to him that made my nose wrinkle in delight. Every day, he wore a shirt that wasn’t dress code underneath his school sweatshirt and khaki cargo shorts or pants. He had a soft but dangerous gaze, never fully focused on one thing. Regularly tall, he wasn’t hard to notice. His skin was unblemished, beautifully tanned peach. He never noticed me unless to tease me in a very unattractive and non-flirtatious way. For once in my life, I hated my invisibility.
Cassidy laughed wickedly, her witch like life adorable to me and I returned to the conversation.
“What did he do?” Hope asked, her eyes fixed on Cassidy in wild curiosity.
Looking down at her phone, Cass read the text, “‘He’s sooooo cool’ he said and sent this.” She turned the screen to Hope and they laughed.
“What?” I asked, leaning over Cassidy’s shoulder.
She turned the phone to me and said, “Cayden texted you last night, it wasn’t me.”
“OMG WHAT THE HELL?!” I exclaimed, covering my mouth and blushing as my eyes widened. “I thought that was you!”
“Yeah well, he stole my phone, took selfies, and sent one to you and said that and you said ‘Omg, yes he is. He sooooo is.’”
“Gosh, I feel so stupid.”
“Some things never change,” Hope points out like she was reminiscing a memory.
I rolled my eyes and stood up with my lunch box as the teacher waved us away in dismissal. Cassidy and I walked to her locker and placed out lunches in. She closed the door and we began to slowly head towards the left wing.
“I have next class with him,” I said, fixing the strap of my messenger bag on my shoulder.
She smiled. “R.I.P.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle.
We parted as she turned into the art room. I continued down the hall, beginning to sweat around the collar of my sweatshirt. I enter the English room and sat down at the partnered desk. Flue came in rowdily and fell into his chair, swinging his binder bag onto the table. I jumped and he turned in his seat, laughing at one of his friends.
My heart beat rapidly and I internally screamed. I could never really figure this rebel out. He always made it to class on time but left for the majority of the class. He had a heart, I remember him displaying it early this spring, a week after his mom died. I looked at him and furrowed my eyebrows. “Who are you?”
“Get out your Chromebooks,” Mrs. Hawkins voice boomed over the yelling. She was female, yes, and she was short, but she was strong-willed and loud. “Go to Google Classroom and open the following prompt: ‘love is…’”
I sighed and opened up my laptop, clicking the prompt. Flue turned in his seat and put his hands in his pockets.
“Jake, where’s your laptop?” Hawkins queried. She rounded our desks with her eyes burning holes in Jake’s head.
“I left it at home. It’s dead,” he said.
“Look on with Aza,” she directed.
He looked up at her with puppy eyes and he said humbly, “I’m sorry Mrs.Hawkins. It won’t happen again.”
“I know it won’t, Jake because this is your warning. If you forget again, I’ll contact your parents.”
“Parent,” he corrected, his eyes darting down to the table and his eyes became glossy. I tilted my head and looked at him.
Mrs. Hawkins nodded in apology, but he never saw it. He was staring at the table intently, his chest heaving heavily. He swallowed repeatedly, the same tactics that I use when resisting the urge to cry. Mrs. Hawkins dismissed him of her attention and walked back to the board and began spitting out instructions but I tuned her out. I watched him, glancing away only when I ask myself the question, “should I ask if he’s okay? Do I care?” I did, I really did and I was scared, but as he continued to stare, broken, at the table, I reached over and touched his shoulder. He met my gaze and my heart sank. His eyes were full of tears that he continuously blinked away. I leaned in a little and whispered, “are you okay?”
He smiled sorrowfully. “Thanks, it means a lot.”
I smiled at him pitifully and nodded. But what did he mean, ’thanks, it means a lot?’ I didn’t really even say anything that meant a lot. And what did I even do that deserved his thanks. Sharing my laptop wasn’t so bad, I moved it to the center and he lightly touched the side of it.
“What does the word love mean to you? Is it a philosophy, a theory or something else? Brainstorm on this page what love means to you and in ten minutes, be prepared to share out,” Mrs. Hawkins announced.
The room filled with chatter again and I took this chance to work with him immediately. “Okay, so, what do you think love means?” I said, turning to look at him, my hands on the keys.
He looked at me. “Um,” he stuttered, nervously laughing.
“I know, this is so weird…” I joked. We kinda sat there a second in an awkward silence that suffocated me to no human knowledge. I just kept wondering what he was thinking and then what I was thinking and how I thought that he would even try at an assignment like this with a person of female race. But I gave it a try anyways. “Here, I’ll go first.”
I moved my cursor over the open space and clicked, thinking. “Alright. Um, love is undefinable because it is a feeling you feel in stages, 1-10, like they ask you in a hospital. It is neither specified as good or bad, but as whatever you feel it to be. For me, love means that you have felt an overwhelming pain that leads you to temporary happiness, kinda like drugs,” I said. I typed as I talked, laughing as I ended. Drugs? Really? That’s the best I got? Congratulations, self, you did it.
He hesitated and then moved the computer towards himself and slowly pronounced what he typed aloud. “Love is a feeling you get when you really like someone and get...I don’t know, like, preoccupied feeling.”
“That’s good,” I said. I waited a moment and reread his words. Nothing like mine; rather basic. Then I looked at him and asked, “is there anything else we should add to the list?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Okay. I think it’s great.”
He smiled and then turned around to his friends. I sighed and messed with the stupid fonts. The rest of the class was similar to the one before, dreadful and physically painful. My head hurt from thinking about how lame my answer was and how we were never going to talk again unless forced to because this was insanely awkward, like speed-dating or dancing with someone who continuously stepped on your toes. I began counting the minutes again and when the bell rang, I shot out of my seat and escaped to my locker and the comfort of my car.
No one is allowed to drink dark liquids in my car, Liam. No messy foods and certainly nothing red were permitted in him either. So when I got there and Cassidy was drinking a bright orange ICE, I flung open the driver door and began to repeat, “throw it out. Throw it out. Throw it out. Do you know what that would do to him?!”
She twisted the cap on and rolled her eyes, tucking the drink back into her purple bag. “I haven’t ever spilt anything on Liam. We have a sort of understanding and trust bond now.”
“Liam never admitted that to me,” I said, starting the car. I drove out of the parking lot rather quickly, avoiding the soon to appear traffic jams and cruised down the road. Liam hummed scratchily as I accelerated through the yellow light and groaned as we pulled into the pizza shop next to my hair stylist, “Great Clips.” I was there last week for the usual trim and coloring. Lisa understood my rules about Liam.
We went in and I pulled out my chemistry textbook and let it drop on the table with a loud bang. I apologized to the table and opened it up as she retrieved the pizza she ordered on the way. I barely looked up to grab my piece of pepperoni and cheese and continued to scan the pages thoroughly until my eyes burned. I horffed down at least half of the pizza and then looked up.
“Who the hell is gonna use this chemistry shit?” I sighed.
Cassidy looked up at me and said, “I don’t know.”
“I mean, god this is useless.” I looked back down at the page. I hated chemistry the most out of all my classes and reading felt like suicide.
I could feel Cassidy’s eyes on me and as I gazed hopelessly down at the page, I said, “it’s not nice to stare.”
“Well you did it today,” she pointed out. I looked up at me and she said, “anyways, I have a crush on Eddie. Thought you’d like to know.”
I stared at her in shock and let my jaw drop. “That’s Flue’s cousin.”
“Don’t judge me.”
“Do you-”
“Don’t question me either.” She grabbed a piece of pizza and chewed with her frustration. “God I love pizza.”
“It solves all our problems,” I proclaimed with a smile.
