Obsessive Daydreams & Beautiful Nightmares

Her Smile

Harper Fowley had occupied the seat next to me in our Chemistry class. Our close proximity had me shifting to the farther end of my seat and putting my hand up to cover my face from her view. I figured she hadn't realised who she was sitting next to and I didn't want her to find out just then, incase she made a scene.

After a few weeks of Chemistry lessons, I concluded that she must have noticed me but she took the seat anyway because it was not too far from the board and far enough from the back.

I won't lie, every now and again I caught myself staring at her as she took down notices or mouthed her thoughts. I was especially drawn to her habit of penciling calculations in the air in front of her. I could tell how hard she was concentrating by the way she set her lips in a thin line and furrowed her brows. For some reason I was absolutely fascinated by her actions.

That finally caught up with me though because one day, while I was staring at her silently mouthing a calculation, I forget to be discrete. She stopped and faced me, her steel blue eyes stuck on mine. My throat closed up at the realisation that I had been caught staring at Harper Fowley by Harper Fowley herself. I quickly moved my eyes to my book, trying to hide my embarrasment. As my attention turned from Harper to homework, I caught what I thought to be a glimpse of a smile on said girl's face. I wasn't sure of it then but I am positive now that she had smiled at me. She could have reacted in so many, more logical ways, but she just smiled at me before she continued her work.

It wasn't the last time I found myself being the receipiant of Harper's famous smiles. Whenever she saw me walking down the hall or somewhere on the school grounds, she would catch sight of me and point me a toothy, cherry bomb smile. The first few times I thought she had intended the smile for someone else, despite the fact that she was always looking straight at me. But I could only tell myself a lie for so long. Eventually I allowed myself to respond with a curt nod. Once I tried to smile back  myself, but the feeling was awkward on my mouth and I knew she could tell because her smile broadened.

I was always puzzled with the reason behind her joyful acknowledgements. We were not friends, we were not even part of the same clique. She was a cheerleader and part of the drama club. Whenever the school had a production she was most likely to play the leading female role, not that I had ever watched our school productions. I on the other had done nothing. I had jumped around from music to photography club to baseball and wrestling. None of it was for me, so I just stuck to what I was best at- Academics. She was part of the popular crew, I was captain of the nobodies. But she still smiled at me.

We hadn't had our first conversation until second term in the year. Our double Chemistry lesson had just finished and someone had stopped me outside the classroom. I can clearly remember the shock I felt when I turned around to see that the person tapping on my shoulder was her. She greeted me with her usual smile before she proceeded to ask me if I would help her study for the Chemistry test. I really didn't want to say yes. I really didn't want to be stuck studying with Harper Fowley knowing that it could very well be the most awkward experience of my life. But I didn't tell her that. I said yes. She smiled.

Harper wasn't as naturally gifted in academics as she was acting and cheerleading, but that never stopped her. I always admired how hard she worked and how much effort she put in everything she did. Yes, sometimes I found it slightly exhausting but I admired her still.

We studied Chemistry together and my initial fear of awkwardness was replaced by an unfamiliar yet pleasant feeling. Harper and I studying together soon felt so comfortable and natural to me. I think she felt it too because every Monday and Wednesday afternoon, we were in the local Library studying.

We started talking alot more. She didn't limit her greetings to grins and waves, she would verbalise a 'hello' or 'hey, what's up' and I would too. Sometimes we would walk around the school grounds during lunch and I would listen to her talk about whatever. In the mornings she had started meeting me at my locker when she saw I had arrived and we would engage in short conversation before heading to class. Sometimes after studying we would go to a fast food place and converse over our fatty meals.

I noticed how she always ordered fries and a milkshake-usually vanilla. She would dip her chips in her milkshake then eat it. I never expressed my disgust or asked her about it, but one day out-of-the-blue, she dipped a chip in her milkshake and held it out for me to taste. Naturally I refused but she didn't stop until I gave in and ate it. It wasn't bad but it was still weird- like her. From then on she would always try and get my to try odd things or listen to her weird music. My resistance always crumbled. She always smiled.

People noticed us hanging out. I know because they started noticing me. I would receive weird glances and could tell people were talking about me when I passed them. I didn't really care until I realised that whatever they said about me most likely involved Harper. That I cared about.

I tried to limit our relationship to just study buddies so at school I avoided her best as I could. She noticed. She confronted me. She wasn't smiling. I gave her my reasons and for a long while she stood, mouth open staring at me. I had thought that it was just realisation and understanding dawning on her and that she would agree with my behavior, but when she finally spoke I knew I was completely wrong. It turned out she cared about what people thought of her just as much as I did of me. I felt like an idiot. It was a feeling I wasn't used to and really didn't like. I apologised. She smiled.

She had asked me to accompany her to our senior dance. I sad no. I didn't want to go. I thoroughly hated school functions. She eventually convinced me to go but I was determined to hate every minute of it. After half an hour- the longest half an hour of my life- we left the dance. She must have seen what a miserable time I was having because she suggest we go to my place and watch sci-fi movies. She knew how much I loved them.

It was a night I will probably never forget. There wasn't much to it but I thought it perfect. There I was sitting in the comfort of my living room, eating fresh popcorn, watching my favourite movies with the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I looked at Harper, she was staring at the screen with great concentration. Her silk hair was in a low bun, she was wearing a sleeveless, long black sequince gown with a high neck line. She had a pillow clutched to her chest, her chin resting on it. She caught me staring. I told her she looked beautiful. She smiled.

I knew she was too good for me. I knew it when she held my hand; when she told me her stories and her dreams; when she kissed me quickly on the cheek in public because I wasn't comfortable with PDA; when she convinced me to attend school productions and matches so she would spot me in the audience while she was on stage or in the middle of a cheer and sneak me a smile or a cheeky wink. I knew I didn't deserve her. I knew I wasn't good enough for her and that made me scared, because everytime I felt her hand in mine; everytime she opened up to me; every time her eyes caught mine, I wanted to be be good enough. I wanted her.

Even throughout our time in varsity and when when we said our vows, I still knew she was too good for me, but she always assured me that I was all she wanted; all she needed; and more to her than I realised. Her words were enough to ease my insercurities, but doubt was a frequent visitor.

I suppose one of my problems was that I didn't know how to love her. I just didn't know how to love. She had been my first everything - my first kiss, my first girlfriend, my first love, my first- everything. I had no prior experience and my parents never taught me much about the topic, they weren't really experts themselves. But she knew how to love and how to be loved. She always tried to show me. I didn't know that then but I do know. She loved me. She loved me with ease.

She never complained, you know? There were always opportunities believe you me, but she never took them. She would want to go out and I would refuse. Most of the times she would get me to go but my foul mood saw to it that it would never last long. She wanted to travel with me but would end up going alone. She would want to do something different, something exciting, but I was comfortable with familiarity. She wanted the toilet seat down but I would always leave it up. She pushed and persisted. She convinced and she bargained, but she never complained.

She loved me and she was patient with me, but she could only take so much. I couldn't ground her. I couldn't keep her from her dreams. So she did what she did and I did what I did. She would be away for weeks at a time, traveling. I would call her every now and again to check on her. She would tell me that I wouldn't have to check on her if I were with her. I ignored those comments.

She came back one evening, from Tokyo I believe. I sat in the airport listening for to announcements, checking arrivals on the boards and glacing at my watch every few minutes. She spotted me before I did her. She pulled her suitcase behind her, making her way to me. I met her half way. I handed her the dying rose I picked for her earlier. She looked at it thoughtfully- too thoughtfully. I told her I had missed her. She looked up at me. She smiled. It wasn't the same.