The Girl With the Gold Hair

Well...that is completely up to you.

I'll be honest, I knew her. I mean I knew that she was in my class. Only one of my classes. She sat on the second row, 5th seat from the left. She would always put her bag under her seat and grab her binder out of her bag, grip the red tab which was for Science, and flipped to the next available page. No, I'm not *stalking* her. I just...admire her organization and consistency from afar. It's totally normal and not creepy.

After *observing* her daily routine...the only routine I really knew that she did, I took out my own composition book. "Ugh, should get a binder like her..." I thought. The teacher did the usual, put up the presentation and read her notes. I jotted all of them down word for word, just like I would everyday. Then I looked at her. Her who I don't really know. Heck I don't even know her name. She was never called in class. The teacher never called out for attendance, she always seemed to scan the room and know immediately. Anyways, every time I finish writing the notes, I would sketch. Anything really. Boxes, projectors, chairs, tables...sometimes the girl with the gold hair.

It's really gold. Not even like blonde. Just basically completely gold! They shine, or maybe that's just me, I would sketch her. The back of her head. I've got a photographic memory you see, so the second she turns around and I get a side angle of her profile, I memorize it. Wow...it's like everything I say right now is creepy. I would always sketch in class. And Mrs. Jesturi would always see them. I wouldn't even get in trouble, she would compliment the drawings. And she'd also always ask,"Who's the girl you're drawing?" But lately she didn't. Nor did she ask today. It was like she already figured it out.

She looked at me with a dry smile,"Admiring from a distance, that's good. It's smart you know," she says sincerely.

I sigh, "I just feel like I don't even know her,"

"Ah you see...that is completely up to you," she smirks and walks to the back of the class.

My lips curl into a small smile-I didn't even tell myself to it-and for once, it doesn't feel strange on my face.