Nuance

Copyrighted © 2013 Caitlin McCormick

                    Nuance

She dug through her locker, wishing she had extra inches because she was positive that her physics textbook was inconveniently placed on the top shelf by her locker partner. Bitch, she thought bitterly toward the girl who just would not move out of the locker. She straightened with a sigh, raising on her tip toes to peek at the top shelf where there was a flash of Grade Eleven Physics.

She bit her lip, wondering how much of a fool of herself she could make before she could get the textbook.

Glancing back and forth down the hall, half praying somebody would walk down any second. Instead of finding help, she found a serious case of butterflies when her gaze caught on the one and only Henry Whitaker. It was a boy so rare, that the search results on Google started to go toward random Henrys and Whitakers all over the nation only by the second page.

He was walking as if he had places to be, yet nowhere to be all at the same time. His shoulders were back, but she could spot the introvert inside of him. She knew of his shyness and awkwardness. She knew that in a way, he was exactly like her. Nobody knew them, but everybody knew their friends. The friends of the same social group. Her best friend, the cheerleader, was close friends with his best friend, the football player. They knew each other, but the had never spoken more words than greetings.

She tried to divert her attention elsewhere, because she knew it was rude to stare, yet she couldn't look away. Soon he walked by her, catching her gaze. She tipped the corners of her lips into a small smile. “Hi,” she uttered, quietly, wishing she didn't sound so squeaky toward him.

He gave her a tiny smile in return. “Hi,” he replied, before passing her. He sparred her a single glance of his shoulder before descending the stairwell. She blinked. In a moment that seemed to be minutes, ended up being only seconds. She had always thought it was a lie when she read the novels of couples talking and time slowing. It had to be a myth because it seemed time would be too fast. Only then had she discovered the effect.

As well as the only people in the room effect as well, when her locker slammed shut.

The situation was nuanced, yet all at once it was cliché. It was what happened all the time, yet it was new and foreign. She liked it, the butterflies in her stomach. The emptiness in her head. It was much better than thinking, and wondering if there would come a time when someone told her he liked her.

Suddenly the bell rang, and she realized she still was in need of grabbing her physics textbook.