Her Eyes Gave Her Away

Chapter 2

English class is my absolute favorite. I love to write and read, though writing is my passion. I dream of writing a book someday. Another reason why English is favorite subject is because, this year, I have class with Jack. I’m taking an advanced writing class, and I am one of two sophomores in it. The rest are juniors and seniors.

Today I’m seated a few rows back from the front, right behind him. My eyes are lavender purple, because I’m trying to write, but I can’t focus because my mind keeps traveling back to Jack. Memories about my childhood spent playing on the beach with him, picking up sea glass and writing our names in the sand. Snap out of it, Eden.  I think to myself. My eyes are swirling from purple to lavender to pink and back. Finally I just inch my face close to my laptop and continue writing. My eyes turn gold with determination.

Until Jack turns around.

“Hey, can I borrow a pencil?” He asks me. There goes the gold. The rings around my pupils flare up with deep, vibrant purple hues as I mumble:

“Mhm.” I shuffle around in my backpack and pull out my metal pencil case. My hands are jittery as I fumble with the latch, and when I do open the case, I realize too late that it’s upside down. The pens and pencils fall to the ground and scatter, hiding under desks and chairs. God, why can’t I do things right for a change? I criticize myself. I bend to pick them up. By now, the entire class is staring at me. What’s worse – Jack bends down to help me.

I can’t let him see my eyes. They look like two overripe grapes. I shuffle on the floor, staring at the ground the entire time. He tried to look at me. I turn away.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered.

“Nothing.” I say quickly. My eyes are probably on the fritz, alternating between violet and rose. Finally, I give in to his deep, gravelly voice. Please don’t let my eyes be purple, please don’t let my eyes be purple. I turned my head up, and looked at him.

“Your eyes are purple.” He states. I feel the color drain from my face. This is it I think to myself. “I always thought your eyes were cool. What does purple mean again?” he asked. I stared in shock. He doesn’t remember! Happy thoughts ran through my mind, and my eyes must have turned yellow, but then they switched to blue. He doesn’t remember.

“Embarrassment.” I whispered. Phew! I was kind of glad he didn’t remember, though; that would have made my eyes turn pink for years.

“Oh,” He laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed, it was my fault.” He apologized.

“No, it wasn’t, it was mine.” I insisted. I gave him a pencil. “Here, keep it. I have plenty more, as you can see.” I said, gesturing to the rest of the ones still on the floor. I started to clean them up again, and at the same time Jack did too.

“Jack, it’s okay, I got it.” I told him. He tried to help again, but I shooed him away. I quickly grabbed the other pencils and landed in my seat. The rest of class went by quickly; about the same speed as molasses. At the North Pole. Finally the lunch bell rang, I shut my laptop and gathered up my things. I’m really into a story I’m writing in my free time, so I’m the last to leave.

…

I walked into the cafeteria and immediately spotted Lucy in line. I ran over to her. “Hey Luce! Where’s Olivia?” I asked.

“She’s grabbing our bench outside.” Lucy said. Since we live in Florida, we have an entire courtyard outside for lunch, and our lockers are simply underneath an overhang, letting the fresh air circulate through the whole school. Our regular table is under the largest maple tree on the hill, and you can see all the way to the ocean. “How was English class?” Lucy asked, nudging my arm with her elbow. “Your eyes are purple again.”