Hazel - sm

Four.

HIM

The new girl sat beside me during music.

The new girl sat beside me during music.

That same sentence relayed in the boy's head for the whole double lesson as he sneaked looks at her between the teachers words.

It was only the second day of semester two, and the teacher had already set an assignment. To write a song, as simple as that, to be assessed on creativity and technique. Shawn brushed off the task, knowing it would take him no longer than a weekend under the stars and a song would come to him instantly.

And then the girl fidgeted.

The sort of fidget you do when you're uncomfortable but you know there's nothing you can do about it.

Knowing better than to talk whilst the teacher was, Shawn ripped off a corner piece of paper from his music book, before scribbling;

You alright?

He slid it across the desk. The girl smiled as she received the paper, grabbing a pen from her pencil case before carefully writing underneath Shawn's note;

I'm fine, thank you for asking. Just a bit nervous.

Her politeness made Shawn feel warm inside, and instantly he decided he liked her.

We have the whole semester to complete it, so don't stress. Do you sing?

This time, when she received the paper, she didn't smile. Instead, an almost inaudible scoff emitted her lips.

No.

Shawn stared at her response, taken aback by her sudden negativity.

Everyone can sing! You've just gotta practise. I used to suck at singing.

She read the note as he wrote it, quickly shaking her head as he passed the paper to her. She didn't want to write.

"Alright," Shawn shrugged, "Hey, I never got your name."

The girl turned to Shawn quickly, her hazel eyes darting to him as he spoke. Her eyes read sadness and a mixture between what looked like guilt and slight desperation. He expected her to reply, or to at least write it down; but instead, she turned away, averting her eyes to the music book in front of her.

He knew it was rude to push people, so instead he took in a deep breath.

Well, I'm Shawn.

He scribbled on the piece of paper, before taking one final look at her, his eyes skimming hers;

And I think I'll call you Hazel.

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