Beautiful Boy

four

I felt my heart thumping against my chest.

What the fuck.

What the fuck?

Did his eyes just meet mine?

Why is he continuing to look at me?

I flushed heavily in embarassment.

What the fuck, I mused, averting my gaze.

My heart was pounding heavily.

Maybe it was because I was taken aback.

Maybe it was because he had a gorgeous face.

But all I remember was the blood rushing to my cheeks, making me feel extremely self conscious.

Why did I continue staring at him?

Am I crazy?

God.

What the fuck.

Pay attention, I mused, getting myself under control, you have class.

You have fucking class right now.

Pay attention.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I stared ahead at the board, my focus diverting every five minutes or so, thinking about his stare.

That had never happened to me before.

Staring into someone's eyes so intensely.

God, it makes me blush.

I spent the rest of the class cringing in embarassment, almost losing my mind over a freaking stare.

My classmates are able to kiss and have sex and then here I am, blushing over something so trivial.

I started tapping the bench, trying to calm myself down.

"Stop tapping the bench dumbass," homework guy hissed, throwing his sharpener at me.

I showed him my middle finger from under my bench, and I smirked while paying attention to class.

I didn't need to turn around to know that he was probably scowling.

I continued tapping the bench, feeling more at ease.

I felt myself being able to take deep breaths.

Thank god.

"Hey! Stop that!" he whispered once more, letting out a sigh, "please."

Aw.

Now why'd he have to say please?

I stopped the tapping begrudgingly, glaring at him.

Fucking asshole.

I looked to the front, praying that the teacher didn't notice me.

Especially because she loved shipping people. It was weird.

She literally paired so many people together that even I've lost count.

I cringed at the thought of being shipped with homework guy.

Fuck no.

I began paying attention in class, slowly forgetting about the awkward incident for sometime, and began doing work.

. . . . which is what I'd like to say.

But nope.

I was screaming internally.

A good looking guy. . .

Maintained eye contact with me.

Eye contact.

If I were at home, I'd squeal like crazy.

Or I might actually end up doing that after I get home.

The bell rang soon enough.

You might think that I'd go to him, and strike up a conversation. Or that I'd flirt a bit.

Well I did. . .

Not.

I couldn't do that. Of course I couldn't! If I went in front of him, I'd be a blabbering mess!

I did the safest thing, and the only thing that I knew to do.

I fucking ran.

I yeeted out of there.

I ran before homework guy pestered me about homework, and that's saying something because that motherfucker always pesters me right after class.

Now, why am I behaving this way?

No idea.

I act like this whenever an attractive person talks to me.

I know.

I'm pathetic.

I let out a sigh after running far enough, grabbing my earphones from my pocket.

Today, was well. . .

Interesting?