Sunsets

Brian

Third grade, first day of school, 9 years old
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"Brian?" Called my sixty year old teacher, Mrs Ventino, whose hair was as white as the chalk dust from the chalkboard and whose wrinkles resembled the creases of my unironed shirt.

"Here." I replied, as she continued taking attendance. All the kids looked to the back of the classroom where I was sitting as they have done to every student, new or not.

I looked down at my name tag on my desk. Mrs. Ventino had not only written my name neatly but she also wrote it in cursive. I touched it. I liked the way it looked. It looked as if the letters were free, against the wind. The tough, strong wind.

I look over to the girl sitting to my left. Since the old rat put us boy-girl-boy-girl I was stuck between cooties. I looked over at the name tag. It read Bella. That means beautiful in Italian. Hey, maybe she's Italian just like me. Maybe I can ask her for her last name? Then I'd know for sure. But that would be weird. Very weird. Like I haven't even said hi yet!

She was kind of beautiful. Drop dead stunning for a lack of words. Her Hazel eyes matched her hair colour which was this gorgeous light brown. Her head perked up as the teacher called her name. She responded with a soft and shy voice.

"Here."

Hey maybe she was new too! Then we could be friends! Since it would have been hard to find a group or fit in. My mom told me this morning just before she left that it's better to have one true friend then a group of fake ones; and she is right, besides with one friend your not constantly trying to meet the social standards of your 'group'. You can do whatever you want, your free to choose.

"Now I want everyone to take out a lined piece of paper and write a paragraph about who you are. Tell me whatever you want to tell me." The old cranky teacher said. Everyone groaned. This was the worst part of the school year. Teachers don't realize that we don't care about what students did over the summer, or what there favourite animal is. We come here because we are forced to come here, not because we had a choice. Well, normal people anyways. I could have been sleeping here. I yawn at the thought of sleep.

I took out my blank lined sheet of paper and a pencil and started writing. I wrote my name at the top and the date. I figured since she was old, she would need to know the date.

I didn't really do much this summer. I went on one vacation to see my grandmother back home in Jersey after we moved to make sure we had got everything and stayed a week. My grandmother is younger then my teacher! Anyways, it wasn't a boring trip, but it wasn't like we did a bunch of cool things. We went to the beach. I saw my friends. That was it. It wasn't like you could go swimming in a beach. You would be crazy! The water is cold and rough. More rough then cold usually. The waves go over your head and can carry you out into the middle of the ocean if your not careful. That's why I stay close to the shore, I can see everything and manage to stay safe while I'm at it.

I looked up to take a glance at Bella, she focused hard on her piece of paper and wrote viciously. I could tell that she did a lot over the summer or had a lot to say about herself. Once and a while she paused to look up. That's when I would look down. I couldn't stop looking at her. She was just so perf-

"Brian? Is Bella to beautiful for you to handle? You know, that's what her name means!" That old rat Mrs. Ventino said. The class laughed at me and I turned red. Bella turned even redder. She hid her face, or at least she was trying to.