Behind His Hazel Eyes

Chapter 1

My name is Allison. I come from a very quiet town in Oregon called Gearheart. I'm 17. I'm a senior in High School. Lets see...what else?

It's moments like these when I realize I'm boring.

Umm. I play the piano. I have since I was a little girl. I love to sketch and I spend a lot of my time with my nose in books.

You're probably wondering what an average girl like me looks like. Well, you're obviously not a thinker. I look average.

Straight brown hair that is pretty long. Normal brown eyes. I am 5'5", but I always seem smaller because I'm pretty petite. I am pale and...well...nothing special.

Oh hey! I remembered another fact that makes me just like every other girl in this town. I have a burning curiosity for a boy named Jeremy Greendale.

Have you ever watched a car crash? Or a child across the street fall down? And there's just absolutely nothing you can do? Well....thats a good parallel to my fascination with Jeremy. I know that the outcome is going to be less than ideal, but yet I can't do anything to change my mind about him. I am simply in awe of this boy.

And it's horribly pathetic. Because he's never noticed me. Which is quite the feat in a town like mine. Everyone knows everyone. Or at least has noticed them. But then again, I shouldn't be hard on myself. I dont know if Jeremy has ever noticed anyone.

We both go to the same highschool. Which is no coincidence since theres only one here. I even have a class with him. Algerbra 2. So i like to think that we've been through a lot together.

If you live in a small town yourself you know that gossip is like gold. If you have lived in a small town for quite a while you will find that a lot of it is fools gold. Just shiny crap that everyone vomits up all day long.

Well all that shiny crap was about Jeremy. Or at least the majority of it. Sure, we were like any other public High School. We had the nerds. (*Cough* me *cough*) We had the emo people. We had the theater geeks. We even were blessed with the populars. (Picture me rolling my eyes. Please, for the love of pancakes.)

Part of the reason why Jeremy was such a fasination is because...he wasnt in any of these groups. He wasnt even a hippie who was trying to 'be unique'.

He was just being jeremy.

His good looks probably helped his 'fame'. He didnt have that bad boy look. At all. He actually kind of looked like a nerd, but yet it was so charming you couldnt help but blush when he was around.

He was tall and lanky, probalby about 6'4". He had dark brown hair that he let alone. He wore dark colored sweaters and t-shirts and the ever-present black skinny jeans. But the thing that had every girl sighing was his eyes. They were the most beautiful shade of hazel you would ever find. They were almost dark enough to be considered brown, except for the flecks of gold that surround his iris. They reminded me of a perfect mixture of chocolate and carmel. 

And if i had my choice, i would stare into them all day.

But I, just like every other girl, had no chance with him. He walked around and seemed to be unaware of everything. He never said anything in class, never volentered, never spoke up. And i dont know if it was because he had nothing to say, or if it was because the only way he could express himself was on paper.

Rumor has it he is a genius and has a 4.0 GPA. But then again rumor also has it that he's been offered a spot in the FBI, so I dont know.

I hate this. I hate how I have been dreaming about him since freshman year when he moved here from who knows where. I hate how I have never said anything to him. But most of all I hate the despare i feel when i realize I'll never know him.

"Are you ready for lunch?" a voice came through my door.

I took off my earphones and slid off my bed. It was another typical saturday. I was home alone. Fortunately I am the type of person who doesnt mind that. This town is infamous for golfing. So I hope that tells you something about the entertainment around here. I normally spent the weekends finishing up homework, sketching, sleeping, and playing the piano. I have a brother but he chose to join the military last year and so I'm home with just my parents now.

My mom is a journalist for the town newspaper and my father is the top doctor here. Theres only 2 doctors so there was a 50% chance he'd get labled that, but still. Its an accomplishment.

I slid into my chair and picked at the green beans and chicken my mom had so tenderly made me.

"Aren't you going to actually eat, dear?" she asks me.

I smile at her and continue picking. My mom is a hoverer. She loves me, but shes a hoverer. Which means everything i do needs to be worried about.

I left the table as soon as possible and went back to my room and plugged in my headphones again. The familiar tune of Clair de lune came to my ears and I immedetly relaxed.

Only a day and a half, I tell myself. Only a day and a half left until monday, when I can sit two rows behind and one over from Jeremy in second period.

Its funny how a boy who doesnt know I'm alive can be my very reason for breathing.