dear diary,
my leigh-anne spoke to me today. her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were stained with dry tears as fresh ones threatened to spill from her waterline. it wasn't intentional, as she was only getting things from her locker, i presume, and i was sat right next to it.
i didn't noticed that her eyes were rimmed red until i looked up and was met with the most beautiful brown orbs ever.
from personal knowledge, brown eyes were ugly and boring. there was nothing special about my shit coloured eyes, but of course the jamaican goddesses were different. the small golden flicks that danced around were hitting just the right light, and because they were glossed over they looked like marble.
she's breathtaking.
and i love her.
she apologised for scaring me, i stuttered out some bullshit and went red and she giggled, a beautiful giggle that could only be sounded by the angels above. not that angels exist, or anything for that matter, for it's currently 1965 and my friends still have to give up their seats on the fucking bus. leigh-anne being one of them, though she isn't my friend, at least i don't think. a friend has to be mutual, and as i look into her expecting eyes, i can see that she doesn't even know my name.
i told her jade, with my thick accent, and she thought that i was called jeed. i laughed and shook my head, which caused her face to drop and her lips to pout. i went red again and stammered out a pathetic excuse of an apology.
my leigh-anne kissed me today, and then she ran away and left me with my lips on fire and my heart racing. and that was the very first, and very last real encounter i had with her.
jade x
