That's Life

Sometimes a story just writes itself- characters take on their own life and evolve without you realizing it. Short or not, this is one of those stories. Let me know what you think.

          I wouldn’t call it love at first sight, per se. No, it was really more along the lines of pathetic infatuation at first insult. Call me a masochistic idiot all you want, but that very first day in the halls when she bumped into me and hissed “Watch it Urkel!” I was entranced.

          She really was a thing of beauty. In all of my fourteen years I had never seen eyes that blue, or hair that shiny, or a face so angelic. Granted any angel-like qualities of hers were dismissed with her insult and rudeness, but when she shoved her way past me (adding a bit of elbow to my ribs), I couldn’t help but stare after her and watch her chocolaty hair sway with each step.

            I later learned, in my very first high school class, that her name was Lilah Stergum. I sat three rows behind her in my English class and stared at the back of her head the entire hour our teacher was discussing the class syllabus.

           If you had asked at lunch that day what my English teacher’s name was I would not have been able to tell you. But if you had asked me about Lilah Stergum, I would have told you how her laugh sounds like a thousand wind chimes in a light breeze, or how her smile reminds me of freshly baked cookies and milk, and that when she talks, her eyes crinkle in the corners ever so slightly.

            By the end of my very first day as a freshman in high school, I knew everything I ever needed to know about Lilah Stergum… and not a single thing about school.

~~~

            It took me three months to work up enough courage to talk to her.  Three whole months for me to stop hyperventilating long enough to stand at her desk before class and mumble an incoherent, “Hi Lilah.”

            It also took me almost two weeks to recover from the embarrassment I suffered when, after she smiled at me (much to my astonishment) and replied with a, “Hey Jacob!” I stammered and blushed and tried to scurry back to my seat only to end up tripping over the leg of her chair.

            I was mortified.

           I didn’t blame her for laughing at me with the rest of the class. If I hadn’t been so utterly embarrassed at falling on my face (and breaking my glasses in the process) in front of her, I would have laughed along with them. So you can’t very well blame me when I avoided her for the rest of the semester, content to just watch her from afar; however creepy it may have been.

~~~

            Winter Break had ended, finals were over, and my second semester of high school was finally beginning. After spending two and a half weeks suffering from Lilah withdrawal, I had made up my mind that I would suck it up, be a man, and make an effort to talk to Lilah. Not seeing her everyday while on break was torture for me, and I came to the conclusion that being a coward and avoiding her was pointless. It was high time that I stopped acting like a creepy stalker and actually befriend the beautiful angel of my dreams.

            It must have been Fate or a gift from the Universe when right after I made the choice to talk to her, our English teacher -who’s name I still do not know- paired Lilah and me for a project. This was perfect. It gave me an easy way to start talking to her and left little room for me to make awkward or embarrassing moments for myself.        

            So when Lilah sat in the chair next to me, I tried my damndest to not make a complete fool of myself. 

            “Hi Jacob,” she smiled her milk and cookies smile, “How was your break?”