A creative fiction piece
Her: Affixed to a seat in the classroom was I, practicing equations as usual. The teacher wasn’t here yet; he was already 5 minutes late. But it didn’t matter to me—I had Math. Never was I unable to find company in Mathematics. Always was there something new to busy myself with—some new challenge to be undertaken, some old problem to keep pursuing, some new equation to solve. There was I, engrossed in one particular conglomeration of symbols and numbers when a glaring ray of light disoriented me. I begrudgingly slanted my attention away from my occupation and toward the door. Then, I saw him. For a while, I forgot about the work I was doing: my attention was transfixed onto him. I don’t know why, but his sharp, turquoise eyes seemed to seductively call to mine, even though he wasn’t looking at me. My eyes followed him all the way to his seat in the center of the classroom. He was talking to someone else when I saw him smile, and I could feel my heart melt just a bit more. I must have been staring at him for an absurd amount of time before his eyes suddenly met mine. I was frozen. I could feel the flush of my cheeks. “What is he thinking?” I wondered. Did he notice me staring at him? Why are his eyes so pretty? Now that his gaze had pierced mine, I felt the alluring intensity from his face all the more strongly. After what felt like an extended minute, he looked away from me and resumed conversation with the person next to him. I blinked, tightly shut my eyes and shook my head as the teacher finally entered the class.
Him: I was more or less strolling through the school gates when I stopped walking. I opened my bag, reached for my bottle of “la Fleur du Malheur,” and sprayed myself for the third time this morning. It was an expensive fragrance, but it didn’t matter—I could always buy more. I replaced the bottle and resumed my stride towards room 402. “I’m really out here late for my first class of the year, huh,” I thought, laughing. I climbed the stairs and walked through the classroom door, not really looking at anyone as I took a seat in the middle of the room. Someone nudged me from my side, saying, “Look, 1 o’clock.” I turned to my left and smiled, pleasantly surprised to see my old friend Six. “How did I not see you on my way in?” I asked in disbelief. “I’m glad to see you too but check your 1 o’clock.” I knew he was talking about a girl, so I looked toward the top-right corner of the classroom. I saw a girl’s brown eyes staring at me through a pair of glasses. I didn’t know her. I casually glanced over her and turned back to my friend, saying, “Meh, she’s kinda cute. Six, my man...when did you get a haircut?” He started opening his mouth in reply when our teacher walked into the class.
Darlon Riviere - Staff Writer