The Boy Who Wore Boat Shoes

02⎜The Girlfriend

02⎜The Girlfriend

           “If you feel like you’re being assaulted by a hummingbird with severe ADHD, then that’s normal. It’s just Noa,” Seth told me as we stood before a red door mirroring our own. I offered up a light grin, assuming that he was over exaggerating or just joking. Shaking his head at my action, he loudly knocked on the entrance twice with his knuckles.

           “One sec!” someone shouted from the other side, following by a loud bang and the same voice saying, “SETH FREAKING NEWMAN, THAT HAD BETTER BE YOU!”

           “My middle name’s Aaron, loser!” the boy beside me called back. More commotion was heard from the other side of the door, until it finally flew open to a girl I was guessing was the infamous Noa, though she wasn’t quite who I was expecting.  

           When Seth had first described his girlfriend to me, I had formulated a picture in my mind of a blonde girl with glasses who was relatively short and dressed neatly and was always on time to events. She lived by her planner where everything important she needed was, and never wore anything too revealing. Though she was a liberal, she was more on the conservative side. Basically, I had envisioned the type of girl who was meant to go an Ivy League and become a lawyer or cure cancer. The girl standing before me didn’t exactly appear to be that girl.

           Slouching about a yard away from me was a redhead who was neither short nor inflicted with the task of wearing glasses. And I meant redhead. Like, legit red. Not a ginger with orange hair, but literally red hair that was more towards a deep brown shade than anything else. It didn’t look like the type of color one acquired naturally, and was paired with tan skin and green eyes that were pure green, unlike mine that had specks of brown in them and could range from either being hazel to almost an olive shade, depending on the day.

           She was dressed in an oversized T-shirt of a muted purple color that was contradictory to the severity of her hair. It showed off a thin line of sun-kissed skin in the gap to her shorts, which proved the article’s name very correct, because they were, indeed, shorts. On her feet was a pair of green flip-flops with her toes painted an electric blue, matching that of her fingers, as well. Both her wrists were covered in bracelets upon bracelets upon bracelets upon bracelets, in addition to one of her ankles posing the same piece of jewelry, and her fingers coated in large, bulky rings. A long chain with a flower at the end of it hung around her neck, and feathers dangled from each of her ears. Vibrant pink lipstick was smudged precisely on her lips, as was the purple on her eyes. Overall, she was just a lot to take in.

           As girls went, the one in front of me wasn’t an ugly one by any means—I just personally was not attracted to her. Maybe it was due to my insane standard of Mackenzie and Liz, her unavailability, or the fact that I currently wasn’t really looking for another girl to enter my life. Regardless, she wasn’t for me.

           Mackenzie had been a brunette that continuously colored her hair black, for she thought it made her look “edgier” and “prettier.” Whether with her already naturally dark hair or with the midnight added by hair dye, she was always gorgeous. Red was her favorite color and she loved to wear this bright lipstick that was like a magnet to those lush lips of hers. She wasn’t exactly the kind to win an award for modesty, but she wasn’t overly trashy, either. Mackenzie had an average sense of fashion. Sometimes she pushed the metaphorical envelope slightly, and other times she wore sweats and a T-shirt for weeks at a time. She looked amazing in whatever she wore, nonetheless, and had the magic power to turn heads even in the dimmest of places.

           As for Liz, well, Liz’s mom was the president of a big shoe company based out of New York—Kit Lawson. Though irony may not have been the correct terminology for it, the actual woman named Kit Lawson happened to have a son who was now dating Mackenzie, last I heard. Small world, huh? Anyways, I found out that Liz wasn’t actually the fashionista she appeared to be, but rather a tomboy who didn’t really possess any insight into the world of clothes. When she was with me, she always dressed like a super model, and looked like one too, simply from acquiring incredible genetics. She was beautiful and not your average blue-eyed blonde. She was Liz Turner…