dreams of you

you.

I look out the window to the left of me. My pencil hits the edge of my desk, creating a pattern of "11 0 11 0"s. The corners of my eyes soften as two birds pass by the glass. Their wings flap and their eyes meet each others. Life as a bird... You would be so carefree, unaware of all the troubles of the world. They can just soar around the sky and enjoy life for what it should be. Maybe it would be nice to get away from humanity. The wind brushing against their feathers, their minds clear of all stress. I've decided the world isn't a good place. There's a lot they don't tell you as kids. I think it might be for the better though. I grew up generally happy, and I still am. But I'm getting older and realizing how horrible everything really is. As humans, it's only natural to think like this. But as a bird, or any wild animal really, you wouldn't have to worry about it. Sure, birds have struggles of their own to deal with. But maybe it would be easier. Maybe...

I yawn, a tear trickling from the corners of my eye as I watch the clock tick down. I wipe my cheek with the sleeve of my hoodie. The sun is rising. The chirps of the birds begin to fade away. My teacher goes on about graphs and numbers and all the things I could never understand. But it doesn't matter because the only thing on my mind is how the bell that signals first period's end is about to ring. Students start to pack up their things and straighten their books into neat stacks. I pushed the pencil in my hand into my pencil pouch and placed it onto the top book in my stack, "A Court of Mist and Fury." It's a book I've been reading for only a few days now, but I happen to really enjoy how it's going. In my free time, I read a lot. Or whenever I get the chance, really. It clears my mind from everything I don't want to think about. Just imagining myself in the fictional universes of the characters is enough to empty my mind. Separating myself from reality. The bell rings and my peers line up at the door. As much as I'd like to say they exited the room one by one, of course, that's not how it works in eighth grade. I'm in the very back of the line, as usual, waiting to leave through the students pushing past each other. The noise of the hallway gives me a headache and it's only the start of my day. My eyes close gently for just a second as I try to erase the sounds. "Jake? Can I talk with you for just a minute?" I look back to see my teacher arranging papers behind her desk. Her eyes are looking directly at me. I sigh and begin walking towards her. She hands me back a paper that I turned in late from the days I was absent. Hot air leaves my mouth as I look at the score. I've never been the strongest in algebra. "There will be a test on this soon and I don't want you to get too behind on it. I've noticed you haven't been paying attention in class as much as you used to and if you want to improve your grade, you're going to have to change that, alright? I expect to see you in my classroom during I.E. I'll write you a pass, okay?" Her words barely hit my ears. I nod my head despite not knowing what she had said and shift my glance towards the window once more. She hands me a slip of paper, a late pass to be exact. I grab it from her and leave the room, my eyes looking down at the stack of books in my arms. On the top, I read the title of my current novel to myself once more. It's a love story. With all the romance books I read, you'd expect me to be quite experienced with the topic. In reality, I never seem to experience it myself. Love doesn't come easy for me as it does with other people. While they're out getting boyfriends and girlfriends, I'm always left behind. Though it doesn't bother me too much, I've been getting teased about it for years on end. And being honest, I don't like romance. When it comes to real life, that is. I've read countless novels about love and I usually really enjoy them. But it's different when my friends talk about that kind of stuff with their girlfriends. I don't know how to describe it. It kind of... grosses me out? In a way. The three-minute increment between periods is almost up and the other students start hurrying to their classes as to not be late. I pass by the lockers of my friends, reciting their names out loud as I do so. Seeing as the halls are empty, I could say whatever I want and nobody would have to know about it. But the cameras were on and you never know when a teacher could show up out of nowhere, so I kept to myself. What I would say anyway, I don't know. The bell finally rang when I was walking by the bathrooms, and since I had a pass, I decided to stop in for a second. There was no specific reason, but might as well take the advantage. I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is pushed to one side of my forehead and my lips are visibly chapped. It wasn't unusual, given the fact I practically rolled out of bed this morning. But I look like a mess. Before I could think about it for any longer, my feet start heading towards the exit.

When the bell between the second and third periods went off, I was the first one out of the door to assure that my teacher wouldn't have any words for me. My eyes were focused on my book for the entire class. Flipping through the pages, reading each word carefully, making sure I didn't skip any of it. I wanted to experience the feeling of it. Of love. The feelings and thoughts that the main character had were ones that I could only dream about. If I were able to fall in love with a girl and make her my lover... Although it was everything any eighth-grade boy could've wanted, I was sure that it hit me the hardest. The hallways were loud enough to where I couldn't hear the sound of my own footsteps. I was only able to listen to my thoughts as I shut out the voices of everyone talking to their friends. I don't mind it though, it's actually quite relaxing. I made it through the doorway of my history class and took my seat directly in the back of the class. I didn't really mind it, but it made me look sort of disconnected from the world. Nobody really looks at me because they never need to. But it's okay with me. Especially since I sat right next to my best friend. Our teacher didn't allow us to talk often, but when he did, I was lucky to be placed side-by-side with Jacob. Since I couldn't see out the window and history was my least favorite class, I found myself staring at him a lot of the time. I've always thought of his face as perfect. I would be lying if I said he wasn't good looking. When we were together, he always overshadowed me. His skin had a nice tan and his nose and lips fit together perfectly. He had fluffy blonde hair that complimented the saturated colors in his skin. When he came into the class and took his seat, we locked eyes right away. His were bruiting and a soft shade of blue. He smiled at me, and I returned it. Then the bell rang, snapping me out of my thoughts immediately. I looked down at my book again and read the title to myself in my head. "A Court of Mist and Fury." My eyes find their way to Jacob and then back to the book. I rest my cheek on the palm of my hand, my teacher flipping all the lights off to begin the lesson. Somehow I can still see Jacob. It's like he's shining. He's practically perfect. Different from me in every way. All of my imperfections could never be said about him.

I'm a mess, and he's perfect.