The darkest secrets

God she's pretty

I first met her in the hallway. Well, technically it wasn't a meeting so much as a passing glance from me. Her name is Rose, tall, blonde, sparkling grey eyes that are impossible to tear your gaze from once your eyes locked. I was trudging my way to my next class. Mr. Crossford. He was leaving later on this year and this would be one of my last classes with him. Rose was leaning against her locker, talking with some of what I assumed to be her friend group. I pulled my gaze away from my books just long enough to look at her.

God, she was so pretty. Everything about her was pretty. As I drew nearer to her and the locker on which she leaned, she started laughing. Her laugh was amazing too. Loud and clear and straight from the gut. I couldn't help but smile although I wasn't sure why. I wasn't sure why this girl who probably wouldn't even speak to me made me so inexplicably happy. Rose looked around as I just stood there, smiling wider than I ever have before.

Her gaze met mine and I felt my face go hot. She looked me up and down, thinking about it for a second, before pulling her grey eyes away from mine. I dropped my eyes back to the books in my arms and continued walking, knowing that my face was bright red. I walked into Mr. Crossford's classroom as the bell rang, plopping down into my seat and opening up a notebook, doodling along the sides and the top, completely tuning out the classroom around me. As I slowly tuned back in I heard hurried footsteps and fast-paced apologies. I set my pencil down and looked up, watching Rose hustle in. I sighed, getting just a little distracted watching her. Mr. Crossford regarded her for a second, before typing something quickly on his computer. "Not like you to be late, Ms. Clearwater. Everything alright?" Mr. Crossford didn't look away from his computer as he questioned her. I sighed, happy to simply be in the same classroom as Rose. 

Her full name, Rose Clearwater, matches the rest of her. Pretty. Her name is pretty, her eyes are pretty, and her stance is pretty. Every single thing about her is pretty.

"Yes sir, everything is fine sir." She flinched away from him and I cocked my head curiously like a small dog would when you start talking to it. Nodding softly he waved her away and she turned, hustling towards her desk. I didn't understand. I didn't understand why she made me so happy. It was frustrating. Normally I'm great at expressing my emotions and understanding what is making me feel the way I feel but I can't explain this feeling. It doesn't make sense to me and maybe it never will.

Even though all I could see was the back of her head I continued to stare, completely mesmerized. Her hair was straight and long and I wondered if it was as soft as it looked, wondered what it would be like to run my fingers through it, to hear her amazing laugh again. I must've truly blanked out because I returned to the real world to someone shaking my shoulders and pointing to my notebook. I looked down, admittedly a little nervous, not sure what I would see.

It was an in detail drawing of Rose's side profile. I gasped, a little louder than I intended to and all eyes in the room, including hers, turned to stare at me.

"Are you okay up there, Ms. Firestone?" Mr. Crossford looked up at me from his desk where a PowerPoint was projected onto the screen behind him. I swallowed harshly and nodded, still shocked. 

He held up a bright yellow sticky note. Everyone in class knew what it meant. Mr. Crossford used a sticky note system. The bright yellow one meant he wanted to see you after class. That is just the cherry right on top. I have to be seen after class. Joy.