She just stared.
Sometimes, it was at him. Others, right through him, seeing him without thinking about him at all.
Sometimes she glared.
Sometimes, she knew, it was the other way around. She'd look up from what she was doing and his gaze would shoot down to his hands. And then she'd begin staring back, daring him to look at her. He never did, and she'd get up from the lunch table, disappointed, as the bell rang.
This went on for some time. She kept track of when he looked at her (when she could catch him at it) and of when she looked at him. It kept her from going insane from the confusion the glances caused her.
He was winning.
YOU ARE READING
She Just Wasn't
KurzgeschichtenI was never her, and she is not me, but still she's here, living my life. ~><~ I am trying to find myself. Sometimes that's not easy. ~ Marilyn Monroe
