Boys with brown eyes

Chapter 14

Last night was a roller coaster. While I was lying in bed, ready to sleep, I had the sudden urge to wanting to text Daichi. It hadn't even been more than two hours since I saw him, but something inside me told me I had to talk to him again. I argued back and forth with myself, and in the end, I chose not to.

I was already at my seat in the classroom. It was first period, and I hadn't exchanged many words other than greetings with the boy circling in my head. English was my best subject, and yet I couldn't concentrate. His mother's words still rung in my head, stay over. That sounds like a total dream.

I couldn't help myself, I had to look at him. And boy didn't I regret it. Daichi had this expression of focus that was just to die for. His jaw was clenched as he did his best to follow the teachers every word. The pencil hidden between his strong, long fingers caught my attention. How did they feel? God, I wish I was that pencil.

I felt like a little girl as I watched him. Small butterflies swarming around just by seeing him. Was this what I had become? A shy schoolgirl with a crush on the volleyball captain?

My jaw leant onto my hand as I continued my research. The darkness of his hair really fitted his appearance. I could never imagine him with any other hair color. If he were blond, he wouldn't be so mature and handsome, he'd be more, cute and innocent.

He usually blushed whenever we got close or I touched him, but that didn't necessarily make him shy. It could just mean that his not used to the attention, which I don't get at all. I mean come on, where are all the fangirls? Not that I minded not having competition. Or that they'd be any.

His focus didn't falter a second during the class. It was like the subjects was the most interesting thing ever. I packed away my books as the class ended. And for my discouragement, math was next. The air felt a little heavier by the minute.

"You ready for math?" The twirls in my stomach multiplied by his voice. Even his voice was mature. "Do you ever, get ready, for math?" Daichi chuckled and bumped his knuckle into my forehead. "You'll do great, and after more practice you'd be the best." My lips automatically turned upwards.

"Are you inviting me over again?" Like usual his cheeks tinted, but he didn't falter. "If you'd like."

"I'd love to."

Daichi removed his fingers from his hair and moved his eyes to the teacher who entered.

"Looking forward to it."

Throughout every class my focus was nonexistent. The only thing in my eyes was the hunk on the other side of the classroom. The one thing I wished for, was for him to look back. But that didn't happen. He was way to concentrated on what I should concentrate on.

Lunch came around, the team sat together, talked, ate, and did our usual routine. The rest of the classes was soon over and once again was I seated on a bench in the gym. My body had started to itch. It wasn't directly boring to be here, but it was tiresome to sit and watch for over an hour, every day.

I didn't have any club activities, and my main plan when I came back was to hang out with Hitoka more. But she's the manager of the volleyball team, so here I was. Technically, we did spend time together at practice, but it wasn't like we talked much. She was busy learning her duties by Kiyoko, so I mainly spent my own time watching and doing some schoolwork.

I searched around in my bag for my notebook as a paper fell out. My hands moved to pick it up, only to realize it was the poster I had grabbed subconsciously from a board in school.

Swim club.

I had to admit it was weird not to swim anymore. In America it was all I did. School, eat, swim, sleep, repeat. It was my life. I didn't know if it was because I wanted to distract myself from thinking about mom and Hitoka, but it didn't give me time to dwell on things. The last two years had been hard. And there was no doubt that it was hard for Hitoka as well.

I guess we just didn't have time to talk about it. And to be honest, I don't know if I want to talk about it.

Discussing things that happened in the past doesn't always end up the way we want. I had already tried that with dad. Yet he didn't change his mind. My interest in swimming didn't start until high school. It developed after I moved and needed a distraction and the one thing, I could figure out I liked was swimming.