If Only: The Story of Abel Rian Hayes

            ‘Can anything be more fascinating than Shelbi Stuart?’ he thought, watching the girl intently. Currently, she was two seats ahead of him and one to the right, painting her long finger nails a brilliant sapphire blue. Madame Faulkner’s French II class certainly couldn’t come near her level of interesting. Abel saw her curl her fingers and purse her crimson lips, trying to dry the polish quickly. Shelbi’s toe tapped; she was a naturally impatient person.

            Then, suddenly, she turned, as if sensing his eyes on her. Abel tried to play it off coolly, flipping his hair and switching his gaze to the window. In the process, his hat (today a green DC cap) started to slip. Panicking, his hands flew to his head, pulling the hat forcefully back into place.

            Wouldn’t it be just fantastic if the day Shelbi Stuart finally looked at him, noticed him, she was screaming with those lake-blue eyes wide in horror at what he was? No thank you, Abel thought bitterly.  She, and everyone else in this school, could never know. Warren knew, but he didn’t count. He had his own secret. One worse, and harder to conceal, than Abel’s.

            He shook his head, trying not to think about the bane of his existence. Instead, he turned back to the one thing that could always distract him. By now, she’d finished her second hand and was blowing on those nails. As she twisted her wrist to evenly dry them, the charms and trinkets attached to the bracelets and cording wrapped around her whole forearm clanked in an oddly pleasant symphony of noise. Maybe it was just nice to Abel, who loved everything about Shelbi, from her non-conformist style to her insane confidence to her surprisingly graceful walk in her always-present combat boots.

            Today, she had on a classic, though new, Shelbi outfit. Both of her arms were covered in the bracelets, leaving only the skin between her elbow and the edge of her black band t-shirt visible. Today’s shirt was a riot of color and lines on the jet black fabric advertising some music group. Abel made a mental note to look them up later, as he always did when he saw Shelbi in a new one. Around her neck was a purple and black checkerboard-patterned bandana with tassels. There were three piercing in each of her ears- two black studs and one silver bullet hanging from a small chain. She wore tight knee-length jean shorts under an intensely purple flouncy mini skirt. And the boots, black and chunky, completed the outfit.

            Abel though she looked amazing, and tried to commit the image of her to memory. The was her hair, bleached blonde with electric blue streaks, was pushed behind her ears, leaving jagged bangs along her cheeks and forehead. The way that shirt clung to her, but not too tightly. Just enough. Beautiful and aloof from the rest of the world, Shelbi Stuart was extraordinary; she was a goddess among mortals.

            Abel wasn’t like that. Not at Harper Lee High, not even in his own world. Warren was. He had that whole tall, dark, handsome, mysterious vibe that, according to the few cheerleaders he’d overheard, had all the girls (except, thankfully, Shelbi) going nuts. When people saw them at lunch, their gazes passed right over Abel and to Warren, and he didn’t blame them. Abel’s school look was utterly normal and boring and his personality absolutely meek and shy.

            There was no way, Abel often thought, that any girl, let alone Shelbi Stuart, would want him. What with his dull light brown hair that never seemed to lay right and his boring gray eyes. He wasn’t even incredibly tall or muscular to make up for it. Abel stood, on a good day, no more than five foot seven and wore a roomy size medium. All of Shelbi’s boyfriends had been at least six-three and looked like bodybuilders. And Shelbi was the kind of girl who always had a boyfriend.

            Suddenly, jerking Abel out of his melodramatic, self-pitying thoughts, the bell rang. He watched her scoop up her binder (green with lots of Sharpied-in doodles) in one fluid motion before walking out with confident strides. Only then did Abel gather up his own supplies and follow the rest of his class out to the bustling hallway.