Loving Kiera

9| Misled

Kiera

Cammilla was the Afro-american's name, I got to know later. Camilla, so beautiful. She was so beautiful.

We stayed side-by-side onwards, since we both knew we had no one else but each other. We were two against the world, or precisely, two against almost all the population of Jefferson High.

Because of Shane, I skipped lunch. Cammilla skipped with me, and we shared the sandwich her mom made for her. She tried to make me tell her why I skipped lunch, but I let it slide. I didn't need to tell her that it was because I didn't want to face a boy who uh...let me down.

Instead, I made Cammilla tell me about herself. She grew up here, but they were really from Minneapolis. She told me about her mother and her obsession with chicken and sausages, about her dad who loved riding motorcycles and about her dog, Fletcher.

She made me laugh.

My heart was pounding by the time we made our way to English class. I was literally shaking in my boots, and I placed my hands in the pockets of my overalls to help me maintain sanity. The stares we received were unbearable, and I wanted to snap my mind out to them all, but Cammilla, as if she could read my thoughts, placed a calming hand on my shoulder, as if to tell me everything would be alright.

It made me bite my tongue and focus on making it to English class.

We sat right in front of the classroom, and quietly waited for the rest to fill in. There was an extremely comfortable silence between the two of us, but we exchanged a word or two once in a while.

That was when I saw Shane enter, his backpack slung over his shoulder, his hair ruffled in the most gorgeous way possible. He wore dark blue jeans and white jordans, his jeans a shade of blue that were the exact color of his eyes.

I wondered if he knew how stunning he looked without even trying.

The mood of the whole class shifted immediately he entered.

His blue eyes met mine in a mesmerizing moment, and for a while, in my weakness, I thought he was actually gonna say something, anything at all, to me. Yes, I'm hurt, but it wasn't bad to hope, right?

Surprise flashed in his features to see me next to Cammilla, but it quickly vanished, and he looked at me like some random stranger. That alone wounded my spirit. I was just that, a stranger to him.

He had many girls who would fo on their knees for him, girls with striking faces and flattering body curves. I had none of those, and I wasn't even fit to be close to him. Girls like those he sat with at their "popular table" at the cafeteria were the ones who were supposed to be near him and entertain him, not some ugly duckling as myself.

I thought we had something different. He walked me to my class, this very class, just yesterday, carrying my books. He drove me home, and we talked and laughed like good friends. What's happened?

I swallowed the lump in my throat and wished the searing pain in my chest to die down. I think I'm falling for this guy. This guy who stared deep into my soul yesterday and laughed with me in his car. This guy with piercing blue eyes that could make one beg, midnight black hair that rympled sexily over his head and nearly fell into his eyes, a body that resembled that of a god, and a voice that could make a stomach churn with yearning.

And yet here I am, unnoticed and ugly.

Part of me couldn't blame him. If I was someone else, I wouldn't want anything to do with me either.

"Hey, Kiera." Cammilla's soft voice called me out of my thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"What?"

"You look pale, and you're crying."