3am

0.7

I can't focus. My english teacher, who's name slips my mind, is rambling on about ethos, pathos and logos. I tune her out and listen to the music coming from my headphones. I zone out in most of my classes, the ones that February isn't in.

We have three classes out of six together, and surprisingly lunch, thank goodness. I haven't met anyone that I would want to be friends with other than February. Most guys that approach me try to get me to join some sort of sport or to do drugs with them. What a fantastic city this is.

My eyes dart to the girl sitting next to me. Her hair is blonde, thick with hairspray and curled into ringlets. Her eyes are blue, but not like February's. They were mixed with green and grey. They seemed dull, despite the makeup caked all over her face, like someone painted a face on top of hers. Her body was stick skinny, almost sickly. She is wearing a low cut tank top, despite the cold weather. How stupid, I think. She had no jacket either. Her elbows were positioned to make her boobs like bigger, and it wasnt very attractive. It actually made me want to gag.

"Hey, whats your name?" She whispered, pulling on a curl and making it bounce, leaning closer to me.

"There's no need to give it to you, you probably already know it, with the way you're acting." Her mouth dropped open in surprise and she turned away from me with a scowl fixed in her face. Hopefully she won't bother me again. One part of me wants to be nice to her, but sometimes I cannot deal with the way they throw themselves at me, it's disgusting.

I glance at the clock. The time seems to be so slow in most of my classes. The ones without February.

I cannot say I am falling for her. I only met her a few days ago in a park. I think she is beautiful. She isnt the beautiful most guys think, like barbie. February Ashford is the beautiful not in her looks, or what she says, but her presence itself. She is beautiful, to me inside and out. Sunshine radiates from her, shining happiness wherever she goes. But what chance do I have with a girl like February? The first day we talked, she smiled at me, and I couldn't stop think about her since then. I have become infatuated with the beautiful girl with the curvy hips and long brown to gold hair.

I think about her in my sleep, I think about her in class. Sometimes the smallest thing will remind me of her. Someone will tap their pencil and it will remind me of her piano finger melodies. I hear a laugh, and I compare it to the one that so perfectly mixes in with mine. I dont know her very well, but I want to. I want to know everything about her. What makes her smile, what makes her cry, what makes her want to hide and what makes her feel free. I want to know the little things about her, like what color bed sheets she has, to deeper things, like her childhood or what makes her cry. I have never felt this way for anyone, especially so fast. The way I feel about February is constricting, and yet so freeing at the same time.