Notes h.s

Prologue

I just started to watch him. For the past two weeks of my freshmen year at NYU I have been watching him. He sits on the grass under an old oak tree that looks like it's about to crumble on top of him. He looks about my age and he always had on all black. Black skin tight jeans with holes all in the right places, a black V neck that shows some of his ink that's been tattooed onto his tanned skin,and these black boots that have been worn god knows how many times. But despite the all black attire today he has a navy green bandana that pushed back his brown curls.

He just sits there or sometimes he's writing in a journal, other times he's just smoking a cigarette. I've been watching him for a while now. The tree is directly across my dorm room window so how could have I not noticed him? He sits there every day. So that's what I've been doing. Today he's writing in his journal. It may sound creepy but in a way he intrigues me. When he's writing he has such a focused expression and sometimes his jaw is clenched tightly. It makes me wonder what's going on in his brain. When he furrows his eyebrow while writing he gets these creases in between them which makes me want to straighten them out, as dumb as it sounds.

We have two classes together, my major classes which are most likely his too. He sits in the far back of the room where you most likely can't hear a word of what the professor is saying. He also holds his pencil in between his teeth with his legs proped up onto his desk which i might add is one of my biggest pet peeves. He listens to the speeches our professor makes or If he can even listen to it knowing how far back he is. He's probably just zoning out and waiting till the class is over. I'll most likely see him tomorrow in class doing that. He's the last one in and the last one out of the room, and the best thing is I haven't even learned his name.