Lovely Desire

Secrets

Secrets

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            EVERY body at my table was chatting away and having a great time except me. I haven't been able to concentrate on anything, but Mr. Lawrence since he came which was a month ago. I craved his attention so much though I tried to deny it. I became so obsessed with drawing pictures of him that I had to get a box to put them all in. I felt so helpless when it came to him. The worse thing is that it's taking toll on my relationship with Kyle. He's getting suspicious of me being quiet and distant. I haven't been paying attention during any class except History and when Kyle tried to kiss me I cringed away. Basically, I was a living mess.

            I picked at my sub sandwich not even hungry. Next period was History and I couldn't wait to go. Damn Faith, you have to get a grip. You're eighteen he's twenty three and your teacher, I told myself. I had to realize this. He was just some stupid crush and I would eventually get over him - I knew that, but I couldn't help my obsession over him. I sighed and looked up at Kyle. He was engrossed in a conversation with Leonard who was my best friend.

            I knew Leonard my whole life and he was the only person that I could trust. I could easily tell him anything and he wouldn't judge me, but I couldn't tell him about my crush on Mr. Lawrence. He would judge me. Not to my face, but behind my back.

 I had originally met Leonard back on my trip to Jamaica, where he is from. He was visiting his hometown and I happened to be there. I remembered that we were three years old and we were playing on the beach. I was dipping my toes in the salty water when I saw a caramel skinned boy with hazel brown eyes come sit next to me. He smelt of cinnamon and that was the first thing that slipped from my lips. I'm not going to lie - I had a crush on him then, but I was never going to tell him that. To sum it up, when I left Jamaica I was surprised to find my summer long buddy moving into the house next to mines. We've been best friends ever since and never stopped.

            Leonard noticed my ogling and raised his brow at me. "Are you alright, Faith?" I nodded like I always do when a person asked me that question. Leonard sighed. "We're going to talk after school. My house, alright?" he said sternly. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and just nodded. My eyes went to Kyle who was looking at me with a worried expression.

"I'm alright, Kyle. I think I'm coming down with the flu," I added for their benefit.

Leonard chuckled humorlessly.  "For a damn month, Faith? How dumb do you think we are?" he questioned. I glared at him. Damn. Why did he know me so well?

"Shut up, Leo. You are not supposed to piss off a sick person. I might throw up on you,"

Leonard rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered before taking a huge bite out of his pizza. I sighed and laid my face on the cold wooden table. What was I going to do about Leo? He read me like an open book. It was like he could read my mind or some supernatural bullshit like that. And truth be told - I hated it. Can't a girl have her privacy without her nosey best friend sticking his nose in her business? Damn. He needed to be a journalist or something.

"You know you can tell me anything, sweetie." Kyle said soothingly as he rubbed my back. His hands felt warm against my back as he softly rubbed it and a smile spread across my face. His touch always felt good, so I don't why I was drooling over my History teacher. Kyle was so perfect and I loved him. When he wasn't acting childish he was the perfect boyfriend. He just needed some time to mature. I, on the other hand, was always mature my whole life because of my parents. My mother always acted like a child and even in her mid forties she still did. My father really didn't help because so did he. I mean gosh, my mom would walk around the house wearing a cropped top that would be two sizes too small. I mean, she really thought she was a teenager. My dad would try and wear skinny jeans - yuck. Just imagine a middle aged man trying to wear lime green skinny jeans . . .