I love him. I love him when his brown curls fall down into his face and how he pushes them back by running a hand through his hair. I love him when his eyes light up with passion every time he talks about his favourite things; oh how they put the stars to shame. I love him when he shifts his weight from one leg to the other when he's nervous. I love him when he chews on his lip when he's focused. I love him when he throws his head back laughing, and how the sweet sounds of his happiness makes the butterflies in my stomach come alive. I've loved him for far too long, and I will love him until the death of me.
She comes up to me with her ripped jeans and dazzling smile, linking our arms together before we head towards the classroom. She's going off about the party that's taking place tonight, how lit it will be, which boys and girls are going, and what kind of booze there will be. I give her half-hearted smiles every now and then to keep up the facade that I am listening. Inside the brightly lit classroom we find two seats next to each other and I drop my bag on the floor before slumping down. She eyes her seat with disgust. I glance over. The desk is covered in pentagrams and the seat itself is barely holding together. She rolls her eyes before reluctantly sitting down on the dark blue plastic seat.
"My 5 year-old sister knows how to use the tax money better than our fucking government," she groans and she earns a giggle from me.
"Choose your words with more care," the teacher snaps as they walk in. She sweetly apologises before rolling her eyes again when they have their back turned to her. Again, I giggle. I can sense someone watching me from behind so I turn my head back, and there he is; already looking at me. He shoots me the smile that makes my heart skip a few beats and I quickly turn back around, my face having turned beet red and my heart pounding in my chest. I have to bury my face in a book to cover my blushing cheeks and idiotic smile. I love him.
Finding an empty table during lunch is a rare occasion, but when it does eventually happen and it's not covered in food or some other unknown sticky substance, war begins between high school student. Everyone with a tray of lowly lunch sets their eyes upon that table and a foot race begins which is why we're power walking as to not alert the school personnel that is surveying the sea of students.
"I just had the most brilliant idea," she suddenly announces as I get eye contact with a scene kid who has taken notice of the table too. Without a proper response I subtly bolt over and send the scene kid a glare. She glares right back as I triumphantly gloat.
"Uh oh," I respond, a few moments too late for it to seem relevant, and place my tray down in front of hers.
She completely disregards my comment. "You should really come with me to this party," she suggests as we sit down. I have to stare at her for a whole minute to realise she's being serious.
"You know I don't do that type of stuff," I reply and stab a rock hard chicken nugget with my fork, sending crumbs flying across the already-dirty lunch table.
"Yeah, but you could," she tells me as she picks a nugget up with her hands and dips it into her ketchup before putting the whole thing into her mouth.
"You know I'm not that kind of person. I'm more of a... tucked-into-bed-watching-reality-shows-for-seven-consecutive-hours person," I argue as I use my fork to push the suspicious looking potato wedges away from my nuggets.
"So am I! But I also know how to let loose sometimes. Don't limit yourself like that, you can be more than one type of person," she says and chomps down two more nuggets. How she manages to eat like that is beyond me, and how she hasn't gained a single pound during these past two years is a miracle.
"Here's my motto: 'No one else can limit you if you limit yourself first'," I promptly say and she gives me an unamused look before giving my right shin a light kick.
