His Smile
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- Parts 1
It all started with, "God, he's so pretty," and very quickly descended into madness.
It was his high charm, his infinite confidence, and his gorgeous brown eyes that had unstitched me, that drew me into his trap. He was probably used to all the attention he was given. How could he not, when he was the very example of a perfect teenage student? He was born in Britain, a semi-proffestional writer and athlete, and talented, smart, independent, seductive, and likable... of course.
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We rounded the corner, breathless, and I saw him. There he was, just stepping out of the classroom door. I quickly averted my gaze, pretending to look at something else as my heart skipped. But I couldn't help it-I stole a glance, my eyes lingering at the side of his face. Did he see me? I couldn't tell. He seemed to glance in my direction-maybe it was just my imagination. After all, I wasn't the type of girl who would catch the attention of someone like him. I wasn't even looking for that kind of attention. I wasn't interested in relationships. Not yet, anyway. I liked my freedom-no strings, no expectations. I wasn't ready to commit to someone when I was still figuring out what I wanted from life.
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