Chapter One

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He smiled to me. Not the kind of smile that you see in movies. Not the shy smile that still somehow seems bursting with confidence, just because he had the courage to hint some type of affection towards an unknown figure sitting across the library. Not the smile that has you falling head over heels in love. Not that kind of smile. It was the kind of smile that made you think. It made you think of every time that smile has been seen. How many people have gotten the gift of witnessing that smile. It seems like a rare feature, one that doesn't get shown nearly as much as it should. Which makes you think more. Why would this boy smile at you? What made you different in this boy's eyes that only saw things in their true color, black and white? Where you some color this boy needed in his life? And that makes you think more. Why has this smile been hidden? Why couldn't this smile be plastered on a billboard to the side of a busy highway? Why didn't more people encounter this smile that was only pointing to you? Why was this boy so smitten with a sadness thats punishing him by disabling a feature that could send girls flying to him? Maybe it wasn't his smile. His smile wasn't really anything special, so many other have smiled to me. But it was him, he was special. He was something. Something simply. The smile only lasted a mere three seconds. Like most smiles do. His actions led his presence from the seat across from me in the library to his next class, signaling the warning bell had rang.

The smile was gone the next day. He was there. But his smile was gone. Today it was replaced by tears. Maybe it was the book. Tons of books have made me cry.. I decided not look for the title though. I wanted it to remain his treasure, that he had discovered. Hopefully I would discover this treasure another day, but for now its his.

The thought of going to sit by this boy crossed my mind. I pondered that for a while. Too many contradictions were playing throughout my mind though. He probably wanted to be alone anyways. The library was a quiet scene, nobody invaded it during breaks. Or lunch. That's why I liked it. I wasn't forced to talk to some jock that I actually hated. I didn't have to hear the constant reminder that my "friends" were complete jerk offs. I wished so much that the I could talk to this boy. Tell him about the book I'm reading. Ask him about the music he listened to. He could rave to me about the undiscovered books he had found, like buried treasure. I could tell him about how my "friends" always listened to that crap music, in car rides, when they had dragged me to go to some party. Then I could tell him how I actually hated my "friends" and they weren't really friends at all. Just some chicks that hooked me up with jocks that only wanted to take advantage of me. And he would listen to me rant about how I never really wanted to be popular. It just happened, and I really wanted to be like him. A guy in the background. I can't count how many times I caught myself looking up to the mystery boy. Today I could study his other features more. His rugged face was sculpted with shaggy brown curls, his eyebrows arched while his green eyes stared down at the book placed in his lap. I watched his eyes move left to right, taking in the words pasted on the pages. His body seemed lengthy, although he was sitting down his legs looked as if they stretched to the end of the table. He was quite skinny, yet still buff if that's. If that's possible. He wore a pair of black glasses, nothing special, just black. He didn't dress out of ordinary, just a simple pair of skinny jeans, converse, and a rolling stones shirt. Maybe that's why I felt such a craving to know this boy. He was simple, but I can see there's so much more to him from what his features display.

Yesterday I was sidetracked by all the things I would say to him, rather than actually saying these things to him. Completely missing a chance to just get his name or anything. Although I don't think it would a good time for him anyways. He seemed to be a bit shook up. Today the tears were gone. He was back to calmly reading his book. His legs tucked into him. Head resting on top of one knee. He seemed more content today. The book probably did that to him. Books have the ability to play with your emotions. It would be the perfect time for a conversation. His face was kind, and inviting. I guess that's why I never really sat down and read my book. I went straight to the boy with curly hair as soon as I entered the library. He didn't notice my presence until I had sat down across from him. The chair made a loud noise, creepy kind of, when I had pulled it out from under the table. His showed that same smile I had witnessed the first time I encountered this boy. I think I would rather call him by a name then just this boy. So that started my first words.

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