don't expect me to lie
don't expect me to die
for thee..."
-Kurt Cobain, "Jesus Doesn't Want Me for a Sunbeam"
Before I really got to know her, she sat in front of me in math. Her kink-bristled black hair was always the first thing I saw when I woke up after being lulled to sleep by Mrs. Meander's smoke-crackled voice detailing the intricacies of inverse matrices and linear systems. I'd never really noticed her. I don't think anyone did. She was one of those girls that nobody thinks about— mildly overweight, but not fat enough to tease. She was the epitome of imperfection— imperfect dark skin, imperfect lips, imperfect nose... but there was one thing that /was/ perfect about her.
Her eyes.
Eyes that could ensnare a lion, give pause to a bear, perhaps even make Bush pensive. Looking into her eyes, I felt like it was the final Judgement Day and Minos was about to give his verdict.
Of course, I didn't realize any of this until she looked at me for the first time, really fixed those golden-brown eyes on me and asked "Would you go to formal with me." It wasn't a question. Her aura of conviction was astounding, overpowering. I didn't speak, just nodded my agreement. She smiled at me for a minute before hastily turning back to the board. My thoughts were spiraling, melting, knotting into a tanged mess from which shreds of ideas emerged, but never the whole item. Terror pounded through my heart, although there was no immediate threat. A premonition, maybe. A hint of wrongdoing to come...
I joked with my friends as usual that lunchtime, but the dance was still lurking at the back of my mind. I couldn't get rid of it, so I went to the school library to try to replace the mounting dread with some other world. Carrie was the first book I saw on the shelf. There was a girl in a gorgeus dress on the cover, drenched in blood, mouth open and screaming. I shuddered, put it back on the shelf. Maybe that wasn't the best option to put my mind at ease. I stepped back to look over the rest of it, but then the bell rang.
The rest of the day went its usual, uneventful way. When I walked in the door after school, I caught a glimpse of my own face staring at me in the mirror, pasty and soft under barely under a heavily used Dodgers cap. After my mom had passed into What could she possibly see in me? Was she mad? Or was she planning to use me and then betray me?
In high school, love is a dangerous enterprise.
A/N: This is a work-in-progress, I just wanted to post this to figure out the system and see if I can't get any feedback before I go further with this. C+C super-appreciated, as always
. I just didn't really see much point in the scene. Perhaps if something just happened there.
hehe And I don't think I got to say hi there so, nice to meet you!
This paragraph was really choppy and hard to read. I made some comments above just to help you out with the little things but I still think you need to rewrite this entire thing.
