A Star Dies For Beauty

First Day

He's so cute.

Wilbur.

He's in both my fourth and sixth periods. His hair is purposefully messy, stopping just before his eyebrows, having pieces going to the right hairsprayed up and his sideburns straightened to stop just before his eye socket.

God.

I'm so weird.

I mean...

I counted his bracelets. Who does that?

His eyes are blue. Not your usual bright, vibrant blue, more synonymous to a polar ocean. A deep, mesmerizing, sea blue, with shards of an iceberg's ice melting away into the void of his beauty.

His jeans were very tight, his Converse cut off two eyelets from the top, giving his shoes a subtle fray.

His shirt was of a forest, a forest in a deep fog with tall pines and scarce shrubbery. In an italicized, white font a read: "Can't can't do anything, can can change the world."

A beautiful quote with no author.

After the bell rang at the end of sixth, dismissing us from school, he nearly fell flat on his face. Thankfully I was there.

To break his fall.

My face turned red.

Not only because I was embarrassed, but possibly the most beautiful boy I've ever laid eyes upon was right on top of me.

My heart stopped.

He helped me up, with very, very soft hands, might I add, and asked me a few things.

"I'm so terribly sorry, what's your name?" He asked.

"Ca-Ca-Casper, y-yours?" Of course I stuttered. I always do it, even more so at the worst of times.

"Wilbur," he replied, like I didn't already know.

"Sooo..." I awkwardly interjected.

"What bus do you ride?"

"Oh. 1567, y-you?" God. Could I sound more stupid?

"Oh awesome! I'll have a friend on my bus!"

This day wasn't so bad. I haven't heard faggot yet, nor emo. I made a friend.

But I wanted him for so much more...