Her (Shirbert Au)

3.

I make it to English just in time.
When I enter the classroom my eyes wander around the room.

You have got to be kidding me, I think to myself. And, of course, the owner of those exquisitely fiery locks has to turn around and catch me staring at her. Once again.

Her eyes meet mine and in a split second she's rolling them hard, turning back around.
She really doesn't like me. Huh.

I don't mind people not liking me. Not at all. In fact, I couldn't care less.
But I'm oddly unsettled by the thought of this girl not liking me.

"Ok kids settle down." The teacher says as she walks into the classroom.

I take a seat a few rows behind her. I really want to sit closer to her and talk to her, tell her I'm sorry for the way I behaved.
But English is not really my strong spot, so I don't need any distractions.

Distractions?
Why would she be a distraction? I don't even know her and neither does she.

I stop myself from cultivating any more thoughts about her.
I have to focus.

"So, I've decided that it would be interesting for us to start this school year with a little poetry." The teacher says excitedly. Some kids groan. And then I hear an enthused gasp.

The teacher smiles towards her.
Of course it was her, how could it not be.

"Well well, seems like we have a poetry lover in this classroom!" She says.

"Would you like to read the poem I've prepared for your class today?" She asks and long locks of red bounce as she nods.

The teacher passes her a small book and shows her from where to start.
I hear her take a deep breath.

"Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;" I hear her say. I reposition myself in my chair.
Her voice seems to be made out of pure honey as the first verse of the poem leaves her lips.

"Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again." She continues. I can see her free hand dancing delicately in the air. I let out a silent breath.

"Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress." Her voice seems to get softer by the word, her tone more passionate than ever.

"Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.

When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.

Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding-cake." She finishes. I swallow slowly. I feel like I just had someone recite a magic spell to me.

And then laughter booms through my ears. I look around only to find every single classmate of mine laughing.
Laughing at her.

In a second she's on her feet, running out of the classroom.
Shit.

I look at the teacher, who's now scolding my unfeeling classmates.
But I do nothing. All I can think about is the impact her voice had on me just a couple of seconds ago.

The bell rings and I clumsily throw my stuff in my bag.
As I walk out of the classroom, all I can think about is her. I try to stop but I can't.
What the actual hell!

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How are we feeling?😬😇💕
I'm not even sure if it's worth reading but I really enjoy writing it so😳