The Story of Her DISCONTINUED

Chapter. 1

      I fixed my hair in the boys bathroom, making sure every strand was in the right place. Once I was sure my hair looked ok, I fixed the straps of my book bag and readjusted the hem of my shirt. I couldn't risk having one detail out of place.

      The possibility of passing her by in the hallways, or meeting her by my locker made my hands sweat. I had went to wipe them against my Nike shorts, but the bell rang.

       I took one last glimpse of myself in the mirror, before I scrambled out of the bathroom.

I was immediately engulfed in a sea of people. I craned my neck this way and that to try and find her.

No luck.

My locker was coming into view and I thought of the possibility that I might see her there. My hopes were instantly shut down when I found no one. I let a sigh escape my lips as I began punching in my combination. My locker door opened with in seconds.

My eyes scanned the messy papers and jumbled up sweaters I had left behind. My hand gripped my locker door, and I shoved my bag into the small space. I stood there for a moment, just observing the messy place, and then reached in to grab my math book.

        I felt someone run into my shoulder, and I rolled my eyes at the persons inconsiderate actions. "Oh shit, sorry." I froze at the sound of her voice. It was her. I looked at her through my peripheral vision. She was about the same height as me, maybe an inch or two shorter.

       Subconsciously, I lifted my hands up, running them through my hair one last time. I needed to say something. I searched through my bag, and pulled out a simple pencil. Nothing special, I just needed an excuse.

       With shaky hands and my heart thumping a mile a minute, I turned to her. "You-you dropped this." Her eyes tore away from her locker, and landed on the pencil in my hand.

       She had light brown hair and blue eyes, the sight of her made my mouth go dry. She smiled. "I...that's not my pencil." She laughed.

       I swallowed the lump in my throat and shrugged. "Are you sure?" I asked her, surprised that my voice didn't break or crack. She nodded with a small smile.

       "I would know. I uh-I don't use pencils." She pulled a pen out of her binder, and looked back at me. "Just pens." I bit back my smile

I returned my pencil to its original place, and turned back to face her. "Sorry. I just needed an excuse to talk to you." She looked at me with that same smile on her face, and slightly red cheeks.

She pursed her lips, and spoke, "aren't you in my study hall?"

Wow. She actually remembered me. I was in a few of her other classes, but the fact that she remembered that I was in at least one meant that she thought about me...didn't it?

Despite my thoughts, I nodded my head in confirmation. "Yeah. I'm also in your art...and uh music." I said nervously.

She held back her smile, and brought her books close to her chest. "I know...your just..." she stopped, and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Your just cute when you talk." Before i could get my mind to process the amount of shock I was feeling, she began to walk away.

Before she was out of sight completely, she turned back around. "We should talk more." Was all she said, and then she disappeared into the mob of students.

       I couldn't help the smile that etched itself onto my face. Maybe I had a chance with her after all. The idea of it made my stomach tie itself into millions of knots that not even she could possibly untie.

       There was no denying the feelings that seemed to take over me when it came to Lydia Disterhof.

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OMG!!! I'm so incredibly and unbelievably excited to start writing this!!!

I have so many ideas! I can't wait to share them with all of you! This is just an intro so don't worry. The next chapters will (most likely) be longer and much more descriptive.

(Btw. Her last name is German.)

-Kendra T.