Story Of A Lonely Girl

Five

-Tom's point of view-

I made my way back to class as I heard the bell ring. The loud sound banging in my ears, interrupting my thoughts.

I think I'm starting to like this girl, i thought. She might be a pain in the ass, but I know I'll figure a way to make her smile, as hard as it might seem.

Kids my age and younger, all running across the halls to arrive to their classes on time. I walked rapidly down the halls to make my way to Music. Well, at least there had to be something I was good at, right?

This place looked more like a storage room than a classroom to me. There were chairs everywhere for us to sit, some of them even stacked at a far corner. As I was searching for a seat, I saw the girl I ran into this morning just minutes before the bell rang, sitting at the far corner of the class, next to those stacked chairs. She looked lonely. It seemed as if she never spoke to anyone, and seemed to be so invisible to everyone. To everyone, except me.

I walked past every one of my new music classmates' seats, some of them talking to each other, others just staring at the walls, or lost in their thoughts. I gained stares by both the teacher and the kids who were waiting patiently in their seats for the class to start.

The glares finally ended when a kid came running towards the door, apologizing by being slightly late, and our teacher accepting his apology. All eyes stared at the guy, except for hers.

Our eyes met, and boy, it was the best feeling ever. Or the way she kept staring at me as I unconsciously took a seat next to hers, also at the farthest row of seats. She caused things inside of me I never thought would happen. No, not a boner. Some special feeling in my gut, and it felt absolutely good.

The whole class went by in a rush. I tried not to stare at those brown eyes of hers while our teacher kept rambling about some assignment we would have to do in the following weeks, if you didn't want to fail his music class. He explained why we were in this crampy storage room (as I guessed), and told us that next week we would go to the 'real' classroom, which was on the last floor and much much bigger than this shithole.

Our teacher, he seemed like a good guy. He wore black from head to toe and anyone could tell he was into punk rock by his looks. He wore a studded belt hanging loose, not bothering to be used properly; and even had a black simple backpack, which had a bunch of band logos and pins on it.

The bell rang, marking the end of period. We all stood and collected our things and headed towards our next classes.

The girl whos name I yet did not know of, stood. She left the classroom, leaving a trail of scent behind her. I obviously followed her, aware that I might be late for my next class.