Infatuation

3|

She walked towards the middle of the classroom, neutral ground. She was surrounded by people who wanted to pity her, but didn't because she was "calm"

She was smiling but deep inside she knew she was in pain. Unbearable pain, but the show must go on, she thought, she had to be strong.

She had to keep smiling, just subtly - nothing to extreme

She felt like screaming - her heart ached, yearning for her mum's gentle motherly touch. A touch she could not have, the touch that she missed every single day.

If there's one thing her dad had ever taught her it was to "never show your weakness, and if you do walk back in with your head held high"

For once my excruciatingly annoying 'self help talks' (as her therapist used to call them) had given her some helpful advice instead of annoying her further. But first - she needed a croissant.

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4th period: AP History. She knocked on the door patiently, allowing herself time to relax and gain back her confidence. Once she was allowed into the classroom she swiftly made her way towards the one of the two empty seats that were situated at the back of the classroom.

Her heart was beating so loudly and so frequently she could have sworn everyone could see it struggling against the cage of her ribs.

Man up!

She sat down, completely forgetting the people surrounding her - eventually getting lost in the abyss of her own imagination.

She felt a soft material hit her shoulder and she looked down at her desk only to see a ball of paper.

On it, was written: I know you're faking, it's ok to be sad. It shows you're human

She looked up, almost snapping her neck in the process. Everyone was writing, furiously scribbling notes unto pieces of of part or in their notebooks.

Only one person was looking at up; looking at her.

Luca

In this school his name was always whispered, never said out loud. You dare not look at him for longer than 3 seconds.
Nayla had yet to see him until now, but she knew who he was immediately.

"Luca," his name escaped her lips; bearly audible, but loud enough for him to hear. She had been staring for approximately 13 seconds.

A large smirk grew on his beautiful face, before she forced herself to snap out of her mesmerised state.

She was immediately struck with inspiration upon seeing his face, he was beautiful.

She pulled out her sketchbook and some pencils, instantly inspired by his wondrous facial features.

She drew out his perfect jawline and his curly, black hair. She took her time to draw out his thick, shaped eyebrows and his luscious long lashes.

She applied extra detail when drawing his full pink lips, she drew his bright blue eyes, ocean eyes. She drew out his strong nose and applied shading to the tan base of his skin to emphasize his insanely compelling eye bags. She'd always hated eye bags, but on him it looked different, nice almost.

Before she knew it she was sitting in an empty classroom, 15 minutes into her lunch break.

But she still didn't stop, despite having the feeling that she was being watched she decided to continue on her master piece.

She drew his strong long neck, taking her time to perfect his Adam's Apple. She then drew his strong broad shoulders, adding final details before she decided that the piece was complete.

At the top of the piece - using a brush pen - She wrote: Luca, in calligraphy.

As soon as she finished someone behind her cleared their throat, she turned around slowly; coming face to face with Luca himself. The fear in her eyes, extremely obvious

"Y'know, you could have just said hi," he motioned towards her drawing before picking it up.

"People around here whisper your name as if you're the devil or something" She stupidly allowed the first thing on her mind, to escape from her lips

He chuckled, running a hand through his dark curls. He leaned down, so he was level with her 5'5 frame and whispered in her ear

"Maybe I am sweetheart" He smirked once more and then walked out of the door holding her portrait of him.

A part of her wanted it back, wanted to hang it on her wall along with some of her other art from London. Another part of her was happy, happy that he had taken it, happy that he was keeping it.

At least that's what she hoped, for all she knew he could have put it in the bin by now. All rational thoughts were thrown out of the window, her initial attraction for him overpowering all of her senses.

She heard her stomach rumble, a reminder that she needed food. Nayla had decided to get something from the vending machine and eat in the library. Partially due to her love for books; she wanted to explore what books this school had to offer but mostly because she was yet to make any friends.

Nayla was pretty antisocial, her real character only came out when people got close to her. She had never been good at making new friends, she never knew how to start conversations with new people. Simply put, socialising was not her forté.

Never had been; never will be. That she knew for sure.

The rest of school was spent dragging herself to each lesson, introducing herself and sitting in the middle of the classroom, all alone. No one had made a move to approach her in a friendly manner, so she stayed on her own.

Nayla was fine working on her own, although she did crave companionship she was not willing to forge one by her own means. She also realised that she hadn't seen Luca anywhere around school, not in the corridors or anything.

She had convinced herself into thinking that he had gone off with his friends to make a mockery out of Nayla, and laugh at her drawing.

She knew letting him take it was a bad idea. She knew it.