Art of Love

Chapter 5

            “Hi, there! I am Jenna and that over there is Mandy.

            “Yeah. We kinda saw you earlier when we passed by the patio.

            “Oh. I saw you two actually.” I replied.

            “Really? Good then!” she told me.

            “So…kid. You have a name or what?” asked the blonde girl in a lighthearted way.

            “My name is Megan, actually.” I looked at both of them trading eye directions to the two far ends of my eyes then directed my pupils down, pulling my forehead with it; in addition, my hair covered partially my face.

            In my current pose there was no way I could see what they were talking about though I tried to peek past the hair strands and slowly rolling my eyes to the corner trying to lip-read. According to the skills I possessed, I had no idea what their conversation was about, still my spirit reassured me that I was the subject of their preppy talk. Frustrated was the best adjective to describe me. Everything was going pretty fine, with me ignoring the words the two ladies exchanged, until I heard a chuckle.

Not sure of where it came from I assumed that I must be one of them who are just around me. I was insulted.  With clenched fists locked on the side of the chair, my energy channeled to them and after a while I gave a big push sending my body—my feet flat--on the floor. To my surprise, my descent disturbed a walking man who stopped at my front that caused loads of paperwork falling to the ground leaving my mouth opened wide while moving which in lip-reading would be understood as “oh my god!”.

In the haste of the moment the two girls, who have kept me company for the last few minutes, got out of their seats and knelt down on the floor to help pick up the papers that must have sum up to fifty. Other school-related paraphernalia also smacked to the floor may that be pencils, pens, markers, erasers, sharpeners, scissors, brushes, watercolor, oil paint. Wait a minute, it rang into my mind. All these—as I scoped them all with my eyes—are art materials, so it must mean…that the owner is…

“Sorry girls, I was so much in a hurry. Jenny, Heart, sorry for troubling you.” His eyes fell on me.

“Oh who do you have here?”

Just as any girlish-fantasy inspired novel would have gone, my heart went beating overdrive as if there was some pop-rock drumbeat in the background. Inside, my ego went squealing and screaming stuff like: ‘Oh my god’; ‘Woah!’. All those voices ringing in my head was all somehow compiling themselves into one common thought “HE’S SO CUTE”! Talk about lovestuck. In my situation it felt more like love-smacked.

Freezing at that exact pose my body could not, even an inch, move for I was as if being held down by a supernatural force given out by his eyes: his oh so beautiful eyes.

He bended down to me and the next thing I knew, we were facing each other eye to eye. So close. So perfect eyes: Brown hazel eyes. Too perfect….

“Michael, here are your art materials, you have class now right? You’d better hurry!” The brunette exclaimed as she looked at her watch. That in particular ruined my perfect fairytale. Awwww. Poor little me, just when I was about to find a reason to smile despite my misfortune. It suddenly occurred to me: What was it that I felt? Could it have been the childish dream every girl wanted? It excluded me of course. I tried to analyze the situation.

 Never have I felt this much ecstasy with a little hint of panic and a whole lot of embarrassment. The term would have been “butterflies in the stomach” but it felt more to me like dragonflies buzzing around wildly without being careful of my delicate stomach. Looking around to observe the incident—papers being returned; the guy starting to rush; with sorry eyes, he apologized for his clumsiness (which was supposed to be my job)—my eyes fell on my hands and only then did I realize that they were cold, a bit icy to be exact. For some reason they were shaking mildly and not out of control. It came to me that I was at that time holding a piece of paper. A few minutes of staring at it which according to a clock was only 4 seconds, my hands regained the heat and so did my heart catching up with its normal pace. I felt relieved.