The Blue Eyed Boy
I remember it so clearly. His eyes are a striking blue. They only glanced at me for a second before being shoved into a locker. I remember the idiots who pushed him. Red and white letterman jacket, gelled hair, their obnoxious laughter as they called him names.
I saw it all happen. The boy in the light blue shirt getting shoved into those horrendous lockers. His hands fisted as if he were ready to throw a punch. His breathing was erratic, I would assume it wasn’t from being tired, most likely from anger. And while his body portrayed anger, I could see it in his eyes, he was hurt.
I wanted to help. But what could I do?
His eyes so brilliantly blue, so full of hurt, they burned into my head as I mixed the colors on my pallet. All the shades were wrong, blueberry, sapphire, sky, ocean, they were all wrong.
I had it all, the sharp definitions of his face, his dark brown hair, the obnoxious scene around him, It was just his eyes.
I sighed out in frustration. I just needed a picture or something. So I placed down my paintbrush and I pulled out my laptop. I went to the school’s front page, It was poorly made, nothing very helpful. I clicked on the students tab in hopes I would see him.
I scrolled through the hundreds and thousands of students but the blue eyed boy wasn’t there. I went through again wondering if I missed him somehow. But he wasn’t there.
The school is pretty crappy and I wouldn’t be surprised if a couple dozen kids were missing from this list.
With a sigh, I clicked off that page. I looked around the rest of the website in hopes a picture of him would pop up.
I pulled up facebook and was aware of the hardcore stalking I was doing but I needed to do this. I looked through the schools page but once again there was nothing. Just pictures on pictures of the football and baseball teams.
The boys on the football team were annoying. They liked to think of themselves as better than others. Their ego needed a giant reality check.
The baseball team however, was a more cohesive group, they got along nice and had a nicer vibe to them. Maybe that’s why the baseball players and football players don’t associate. If anything, it’s more of a mutual hate. They glare at each other, make snide comments, and will never sit together at lunch. But the baseball team is nice, just not to the football players. Even though they play for the same school, it’s some weird territorial crap or something.
In one picture I paused. I’ve never been to a baseball game, and usually I wouldn’t care, but as I studied the team, there was one guy who caught my eye. He was big and tall, smiling widely at the camera. It’s not that I felt love at first sight, he just seemed different. It was intriguing.
I studied him quickly before I zoomed in a little at the crowd. There, sitting on the bleachers was my blue eyed boy. I smiled a little at his pose. He was in the middle of an eye roll with his arms crossed. The boy next to him wore a green shirt, he had the kind of messy hair that every guy strives for. His dirty blonde hair matched with green eyes as he seemed to be reprimanding the blue eyed boy.
I picked back up my pallet and started to slowly recreate the blue. It was an indescribable color, one made from so many different shades that if I tried, I would be afraid I would never get it right again.
I hummed a quiet song as I gently filled in his eyes. Not the playful glittery eyes he pointed at his friend, but the ones that glanced at me filled with sadness and hurt.
I want him to know I see him. He’s not alone in his thoughts.
When I feel satisfied, I leave it to dry as I go to get dinner ready. I don’t want anything crazy, maybe pancakes. There is no need to categorize food. Pancakes can be eaten any time of day.
With the batter ready and the pan hot, I gently pour the pancake batter in the pan. I watch it carefully and glace between the time and the pancake as I determine the right time to flip it.
I take the spatula and quickly flip it over.
I groan out with a small pout. I’ve made pancakes hundreds of times! How do I seem to burn them each time?
I make the rest, all coming out with a darker brown than intended and I eat them. I dont think ive ever had a pancake not burnt.
With the pancakes eaten and the pans washed. I sit on the couch debating a movie. I briefly wish for a friend, someone to laugh with when I put on a comedy, someone to cheer with me when the protagonist finally kisses her crush, someone to cry with when someone dies. But it’s just me. And i’m okay with that right now. The world won’t stop turning because I feel lonely.
I eventually put on The Proposal, Something to fill the time.
My eyes close in on the scenes and my mind drifts. Not to anywhere in particular. It’s not like I have a lot going on for me right now.
But I do think back to my last painting. I had just seen a boy in one of the trees outside of school. He was climbing about and looked at peace. He climbed around and eventually sat on one of the branches with his back to the truck. He looked off into space and although he seemed content, I could see the emotions cloud his mind.
His eyes were thoughtfully sad, as if he were unhappy with a situation he had no control over. He seemed defeated, like something had happened and he knew he could do nothing but accept it.
I had seen him around before, brown hair, cheery brown eyes. However, his eyes weren’t cheery this time.
I had painted him in that tree, with that distant look on his face. I want him to know I was there, I want him to know he wasn’t alone. So with him in that picture, I painted shadows, shadows of all different people and animals. I didn’t want him to feel so lonely. Everyone has someone or something. They don’t need to be important. I revel in the sounds of birds, the groups of people at school who giggle and whisper in their own world or watching the same kid with dark brown hair and an angry expression run down the street every morning.
There are things all around.
I wonder if he got it. I wonder what he thought.
I’ve been painting for people for a few months now. I have never revealed myself to anyone. I’m basically a ghost at school. I don’t have friends and people never recognize me as I walk past them in the halls, I don’t talk much so I don’t get attention. I’m okay with that.
I turn the movie off and walk upstairs. Getting ready for bed, I wait for tomorrow. Tomorrow I will deliver my picture. Tomorrow I hope to do some good.
The bell is loud in my ears as I walk down the halls looking for the blue eyed boy. I need to find his locker.
I’m at my own locker putting my books in my bag and my lunch in my locker. Each time I have to open my locker I learned I have to kick with a certain amount of force in the right corner for it to pop open. The lockers here suck. I close my locker, and look once more down the hall but I don’t see him.
He must be on a different floor
I sigh and make my way to my class.
In AP english, I set my things down and sit at a desk near the middle of the class.
People start filling the class and I take out my yellow notebook. I color coordinate per class. English is yellow.
I place my head on my hand and use my other hand to sketch out a simple picture. Just a rose in a jar of water. The water glistened with the reflection of the rose.
It’s been several minutes past the bell and I wonder if the teacher will be here at all.
“What the fuck!?” I jump at the sound of someone at the desk next to me. On instinct, I glance over to them.
My lips part slightly in surprise and my eyes widen just a bit as I look into sparkling blue eyes.
His eyebrows are scrunched in confusion as he glances at my paper “How the fuck did you do that?”
I look back at my unfinished picture and back to him. I’m not sure what to say. “I just drew it?”
I’m very confused and a little out of practice. I haven’t had much social interaction with people in my life and I was very unprepared for the boy of my painting to start up a conversation.
He scoffs “Don’t give me that answer”
I’m at a loss for words. “I don’t.. I...what?”
Suddenly a voice from behind me jumps in “Be nice Ethan”
My head turns to see the guy from the baseball picture, the boy who was sitting next to the blue eyed boy, Ethan, with the messy dirty blonde hair
His eyes are curious as he looks at me.
“I was being nice” Ethan grumbled
I look back to him with a confused expression. I don’t believe any of what he said was a nice thing.
He sighs “okay so I wasn’t exactly nice, but I was getting there”
He looks back at the picture for a moment before looking back at me “I really like your picture. It’s incredible”
My mind is a bit overloaded from this but I remember to be nice and say “thank you”
He holds out his hand “i’m Ethan” the spark in his eyes is back
I take his in mine “i’m Thea”
I then look to the boy behind me when he clears his throat “im Levi”
I smile and turn back to my paper, not sure what to say.
The boys leave me be and I finish my rose. I wish I could get some color on it but class is close to over now and I know the teacher isn’t coming in. Stupid school.
When the bell rings we all pack up and I hike my bag up my shoulder. Before I can leave, Levi and Ethan come up to me. “You should come to lunch with us, we’d like to have you there and get to know you better”
I blink at Levi’s request not sure what to do. I haven’t had so many people hold a conversation with me in so long, while a part of me wants to be alone and figure this out, another tells me to take the leap.
Before I can overthink anything, I nod.
“I’ll have to meet you there, I have to get my lunch first” I want to take this opportunity to follow them and find Ethans locker.
They nod and we split ways.
When they turn around the corner, I turn back around and start to move their way.
Turns out they’re just in the hall beside mine
231. Ethans locker
I watch them exchange their bags for lunches and walk away. I take this time to wait for the crowd to disperse until it’s just me. I walk up to his locker and pull out my painting. His eyes vibrant and sad, his blue shirt wrinkled, his hands clenched tightly. Giving it a good once over, I slip it into the cracks on his locker and rush away to the lunch room
The onslaught of voices hits me just as hard as my first day.
The lunchroom is crowded and a few freshmen are in the lunchline, not yet learning the food is likely to make them sick.
I hold on to my bag and weave my way through the people. I look over at each table and don’t see them. Deciding they’ll forget who they are waiting for anyway, I just go out to the courtyard and sit on the grass. I take out my sandwich and my watercolor paper and begin a drawing while periodically eating my sandwich.
This one was of a time I was walking home. There was a boy who was walking his dog, he was maybe thirteen or fourteen, and surprisingly fashionable.
He was talking animatedly on the phone and had a huge smile on his face. He was so joyful it made me happy to just see him. And while I can’t give it to him, I will keep it.
I have a box of my paintings and drawings by my bed. I’m not sure what to do with them but I think one day i’m going to do something.
My name is called and I look up to see Levi jogging to me. “What happened? you weren’t in the lunchroom, I was afraid something happened”
He was worried about me? I almost smile at the thought that he thought something happened to me when I’ve been here for years.
I gently close my pad of paper and look up at him “sorry, I didn’t see you so I just assumed you forgot and I came out here”
He looks at me closely before offering his hand to help me up “would you still join us for lunch?”
I smile gently and take his hand “sure”
I take my bag off the ground and dust off the dirt. we begin walking the opposite direction “we wouldn’t forget about you Thea, no need to worry about that”
Soon enough we’re joining a group of people. I smile at Ethan and then look at the rest of the group. A large guy looks at me with a smile on his face. With his large frame, he easily towers over me when I sit. I look at him and he must notice when recognition crosses my face. “You play baseball” I state
He raises an eyebrow “are you a fan?”
I can feel a blush raise to the surface of my face. I haven’t ever been to a game so i’m not exactly a fan, but he doesn’t need to know I saw him when I internet stalked Ethan.
I shrug “I guess”
“I’m Reece ” he gestures to himself.
Then another guy speaks up. “Im Connor”
I smile politely at him. His green eyes are curious and cheery, his hair blonder than Levis, almost shining in the sun with how shiny it looks.
I look over at the guy next to him, his dark hair falls a bit into his dark brown eyes. His eyes meet mine with an angry and weary gaze.
I smile a little at him and simply give him a nod and look at the last person.
I’ve always been a painter, no doubt about that. But when I was younger, I also loved to watch movies. I watched all sorts of movies, thriller, romance, si-fi, anything I could get my hands on.
This guy looks like he came straight from a movie, his face is defined and carved in all the right places. His brown eyes look at me with a sparkle that I’ve only seen in movies. And when he smiles, I blink several times hoping to capture the image for another time where I can get my hands on a paintbrush.
He gives a polite smile “i’m Benjamin, Benny if you want”
Still locking gazes with his eyes, I watch as he seems to look for something in my eyes, i’m not sure what but he leans back and a relaxed expression covers his face.
I nod “Well it’s nice to meet you all”
I can feel their gazes as I take out my things. “Did you not put your bag away after last period?” Connor asks
I answer a bit vaguely. “I like to do homework and stuff during lunch” he doesn’t need to know that I tend to begin my paintings then. Just like Ethans.
During this time, mainly the guys talk but sometimes questions will be directed at me.
What I like to do during my free time,
My favorite movie,
I’m asked if I like chess, and I said yes. “You should go against Connor, he’s like the chess champion. Although I’m pretty sure he cheats” Reece says as he narrows his eyes at Connor
and he rolls his eyes. “No, you’re just terrible at chess. you call the rook a ‘castle’ and the bishop ‘pointy guy’
I keep the fact that I call the knight ‘horsey’ to myself
I’m happily surprised that this lunch time went moderately well. Of course the guy with the dark hair who wouldn’t talk to me didn’t say a word to me during the duration of lunch but the others were really nice.
I like having people to talk to
When the bell rings we all pack up
Reece comes to walk next to me “Ethan tells me you’re an amazing artist. Do you like to draw?”
I shrug “I guess”
“That is so cool. Maybe you could show me one time?” I nod and pull out my bag as I continue to walk.
I flip through my sketches and take out the one I did of the dark haired boy one time when he ran past my house. I didn’t know who he was or that he was named- I still don’t, but he had such a content aura. Like he was completely at peace as he ran. It’s a lot like when I paint, I feel happy. I don’t feel that too much, but painting is my happy place.
His features are mixed and blurred from a distance because I couldn’t really see him, so the picture is a little more abstract. The boy is running from a side view and while he’s slightly blurred, the rest of the neighborhood is sharp, defined.
I give it a glance over and pray he doesn’t think I’m some sort of creep. “Here”
His eyes grow wide and his steps halt making all the other boys run into him and yell at him for stopping in the already crowded hallway. His eyes look back to me “you did this?”
I nod slowly
He runs a hand through his hair and smiles brilliantly at me “this is absolutely amazing Thea!”
He turns around and pulls the dark haired boy near him so he can see. As Reece jerks the guy’s arm, he basically shoves the painting in his hands as carefully as he can without bending it “Alexander! Look at this!”
I chew on my thumbnail nervously. He’s already distrusting of me, what if hates it? What if he tells his friends to stay away because I’m a creep who likes to paint strangers?
He looks over the painting but nothing on his face gives away any emotion. He looks over at me and gives a single bob of the head in acknowledgment.
Reece goes to smack the back of his head but Alexander is quick to block it with his forearm. He hands it back to me and a little part of me deflates. Does this mean he didn’t like it?
Benny comes to stand next to me as we continue to walk to class “You really are talented. I hope you know that”
I nod and shrug at the same time “I don’t know if I would qualify it as ‘talented’, but i’m happy with what I make and to me, that’s good enough”
His eyes are filled with wonder and awe and he smiles softly at me.
“Thea! What class do you have?” Ethan asks from behind me
I turn my head to him “I think I have art”
He snorts “Great. Art girl has art. How am I supposed to focus now?”
I blush and duck my head
He pulls me into the class and sits me down next to him.
I set out all my supplies getting ready for class to start, if it starts. I always make sure to alter my painting style if anyone has access to them while I paint them. I don’t want anyone to connect the dots that I’m the painter around the school. I don’t worry about my drawings, they naturally have a different style then my paintings.
It’s only about a minute after class when Connor comes running through and towards Ethan. “Remind me to never try and raid the vending machine. For one, there were no good snacks, and secondly, it almost made me late being on the opposite side of the school! Don’t even get me started when it started to attack me..”
I let out a giggle and his gaze snaps to me “hey Thea, I didn’t know you were in this class”
“Oh, yeah. Im pretty quiet I suppose”
He puts an arm around Ethan and jostles him a bit. He points a finger at him “Well then good luck with this one”
Ethan pushes Connor off with a scowl. He smooths down his clothes and throws an exasperated look to me. As if saying, look what I have to deal with.