I spend half of lunch before I notice him. He is standing against the wall staring at me. Kaylan, the most gorgeous person I have ever met face to face. Ripped and colored skinny jeans, Vans, tight band shirts, gauges and plaid scarves. Brown emo hair, tortured green eyes, angular features and slightly red cheeks. This is eighteen year old Kaylan, sexy, irresistible, Kaylan.
Clean skinny jeans, preppy jackets, ballet flats, pearl earrings and French nails. Long blond hair, big blue eyes, full lips and perfect skin. This is me, fifteen year old, very pretty, very proper Scarlet.
Kaylan and I each have entirely different spheres. His consists of Screamo music and alternative bands, going to Hot Topic and smoking behind the school. Mine revolves around dance lessons and piano, being a regular at American Eagle and getting all A's. Our sphere's do not meet, they pass each other in the hall and try to star out of each other's path, they acknowledge the other's presence but don't react to it, they don't interact with each other under any circumstances- so why is he staring at me?
I try to ignore it, try to dismiss it as a glance by. He's probably not even looking at me specifically. I look up to prove my theory and am horrified. He is staring at me dead in the eyes and smiling. Years of etiquette classes unconsciously force me to return the smile, once I realize what I'm doing I look down and blush- picking at my salad. Why are good girls like me always attracted to the bad boys like him?
Is it because they provide and escape from our strict as nails life style? Because we feel the need to rebel? Rebel against what though? I dislike nothing about the way I am living. I like the structure, the discipline. Knowing what needs to be done and how to do it.
After a couple more bites I come to the conclusion that I am just unfortunately drawn to him by how exotic he is. I can't help it, it's not a medical condition I can suppress with enough pills. It's not a mental disorder I can work out through therapy. It's something more than that, it's a state of being and there is no visible light at the end of the tunnel.
The bell rings and I end up sitting in my next two classes still concentrating on how sincerely intoxicating his smile had been. Words flow out of the teachers mouth and incoherently in though my ears, not connecting to anything in my brain. My friends don't pay attention to my dazed state, they're too busy copying down notes.
I have almost forgotten the whole lunch room dilemma by the end of fifth period, but then as I'm walking down the hall towards my creative writing class I realize with a weird stab of excitement and anxiety that Kaylan will be in there with me.
The small table lamps scattered around the room provide a dim atmosphere that semi relaxed me. I go to sit down in my usual seat as our vibrant teacher bounds to the front of the room. He announces that today we will be giving our latest assignment to a partner to be edited.
I don't know whether it's fate or coincidence that I'm partnered up with him, but I am and he comes to sit next to me as everyone else moves about the room to read and discuss. The prompt yesterday was to write exactly what was on your mind at the moment and I hand mine unstably to Kaylan wishing I was a better writer. I start reading his and become consumed.
She doesn't see me, I'm invisible like a ghost on the wall of her perfect life. She doesn't see me, but I see her. I see her everyday; sitting in the commons, walking down the hall, eating her lunch, going out to her car. I see her happiness and her joy and sometimes I think I see her sadness even when she is ignorant of it. I see her and I can't help but love her. She makes happy just by smiling, when I hear her laugh it brightens my day.
To not love her would be unthinkable, but how can you love someone who is unaware of your existence. I wait, everyday and every night, for her vision to improve. I wait for her to put in the contacts that will allow her to see me properly. But what if she could see me? It's not like her world would make an exception for me, I'm to different, too messed up, too cliche. Does she realize I would change that all for her though? Does she realize that I would cut my hair, take out these God forsaken gauges and hell, even buy a suit?
She doesn't realize, and she doesn't know how much it hurts to wait but I have to hope, hope that someday some things will change because hope is all I have left.
By the time I finish reading my heart is pounding and I have to put down the paper because my hand is shaking so bad. Maybe I was wrong about him, maybe he isn't just some bad boy with a bad case of rebellious attitude. What if he's talking about me? What do I do then?
He sets down my paper and smiles at me.
"I liked it, especially the part about how your dreams about Robert Pattinson are starting to get more and more dramatic." he laughs and I can't resist smiling.
"Yours was really...really just beautiful." I say softly.
The teacher interrupts us and we spend the rest of the class sharing. Later the bell rings and I pack up my bag slowly, waiting until the other kids rush out of the room to start moving. Kaylan is walking right in front of me and my heart is pounding contemplating what I'm about to do. I have never taken a leap like this, never been so bold but I'm willing to risk it on him. Just as he's about to reach the doorway I stop him.
"Kaylan?"
He turns around with a sad type of smile that wrenches my heart.
"I see you now." I feel really, really dizzy now and I pray I won't faint.
He smiles and looks at me with the most adoring hue to his eyes.
"Finally."
