The Art of Letting You Go

the first time

High school was slowly but surely revealing itself to be torture. It was only my first day and I had already lost the grip I thought I had on my "friend group". Though I admit, that so called grip faded away over the Summer. The Summer that was boring and ironically still filled with school work.

I indulged in the opportunity of Summer school. I made friends faster than I had ever done in my whole life. I still don't know how, but it sparked a hope deep inside me, assuring me that making friends in high school would come just as easy.

What a lie, honestly. Some of my friends drifted away, others I admit I drove away. It's seemed to become a habit of mine. I also noticed a decline in people being attracted to me as I entered my first year of high school.

I spent my first day being a clueless mess, even though I told myself I wouldn't be that type of freshman. Looking back at everything, no one really cares about freshman, but I had always been told me otherwise.

-

I had arrived to my sixth period class, algebra. I felt uncomfortably stupid, being a fifteen year old in the lowest math course there was. However, something caught my eye. As I sat in a desk near the front, instructed by my teacher, surrounded by people I didn't know and didn't care to know, I noticed a boy in the corner of the room.

His legs were rested upon the metal bars at either end of his desk, his body seemingly pointed in my direction. He wore long pants with some type of sweater with a font I couldn't read from across the room. He was tapping his foot slightly, dancing to a nonexistent beat. I scanned his body up further. His head was resting upon his ball shaped fist, as his other played with a mechanical pencil. His hair was dirty blonde and messy, in a neat way. He was looking right at me.

My cheeks grew hot, I became flustered and turned away hoping he won't notice my change in color. To my luck, the teacher begins speaking.

"Hello sixth period, we're going to play a little game." No one shifted in their seats. From what I gathered, none of us knew each other or even wanted to be here.

The teacher begins to walk around the room passing out papers already, scanning each student as she hums with thought. "The paper I'm handing you is a challenge. Who can get to know you better?" The class lets out a groan.

"Don't be so disappointed! Whoever wins gets five bonus points on our first homework assignment." Exclaimed the teacher, probably expecting an excited response. There was none.

"You have twenty minutes. If your page is blank at the end of class you get a zero as your first grade." Her last statement had people reluctantly shifting from their seats.

Oh god, oh no. The boy from across the room was walking over here. I looked down with my paper still on my desk. I really wasn't one for talk. Especially after being caught staring.

I let out a sigh of relief as he started to chat up the girl next to me. I stayed in this corner of the room. He did the same. We circled through everyone at this patch of desks before finally reaching each other.

"Two minutes left!" The teacher's taunt had startled me. I knew he was looking at me but I kept my stare on the ground below me.

The tension was unbearable, we just stood in front of each other. Him leaning over the desk next to mine, and me standing idly next to him.

"I'm Olly." I didn't notice but I guess he had walked up to me. "Hi, I'm Avery." I smile unwillingly, not sure if I should shake his hand or not.

Noticing the awkwardness between us, we both stare blankly at the paper we had been assigned.

"So, do you play any sports?" He asks. I began to read his sweatshirt. It had "New Jersey Track" sprawled across his chest with bold orange letters. I lived in New Jersey about three years ago. He also wore long socks with some type of shoe on them, which I guess represented his love for track and field.I smile as I look up to face him, becoming engulfed in his crystal blue eyes. I realized he had asked me a question.

"No, not anymore." I say shyly, aware of my soft yet strained voice. He makes a mark with his pencil. My turn. I scan the page.

"Your favorite T.V show?" I keep my head down. I'd like to make eye contact with this boy, but I can already see my cheeks flaring at the stare he's holding over me.

"Supernatural," he breathes. I choke on a laugh, holding a hand over my mouth as I realized what I had done.

"What?" He defends himself, smiling as if to signal he wasn't upset at my response.

"I don't know, I get easily bored watching that," I trial off, keeping my head down.

"You're probably stuck on season two." I look up at him as a buzzer goes off, signaling to the class that the game was over. I giggled as he stood, looking offended. I had previously grown self-conscious toward my laugh over the years, but a smile appeared over him as the noise left my mouth.

He walked back over to his desk, following the rest of our classmates. He slouched down and looked back at me. I looked away.

He had to be older, like seventeen. He had a patchy wave of stubble on his chin, and the way he carried himself gave off a college student vibe. I had to admit, I thought about being attracted to him. I shook the thought out of my head. He had to be older.

And looking back at this now, I realize. I had made yet another excuse not to open myself up to someone. "It's not the right time, you still have feelings for her, I think my friend likes you, I don't want to ruin the friendship...he's older."

But I will never, ever forget the first time I dove into those crystal blue eyes.