Just A Moment

Chapter Nine

Even though he did have all of the afternoon classes together, we didn't really talk very much. Unless there was a question about the homework or small conversation. Until sixth and seventh hour, that is. Also known as algebra. You kind of just started talking. I couldn't just ignore you. And even when I was doing the asignment, you were just staring at me. I hate it when people stare at me."Why are you staring at me?" I ask.

"Does it bother you?" he replies.

"Yes it does."

"Would you say it... I don't know, scares you?" 

"You're still on that?"

"Yes."

"I love it when people do that. I do that all the time."

"So you love yourself?"

"No. That's not what I'm saying. It's a good trait to have, okay?"

"Yeah it is. It means you have a good attention span. I'd say I've got a decent attention span. And because I do have a good span, I would notice that you avoided my question, yeah?"

"Yes it does. Congradulations Spock you are the first person that has found something that scares me." 

"Victory!" I smile and continue doing the homework. Everyonce and a while I glance up and he's still looking at me. "Stop staring at me," I tell him. 

"Nope."

"Please?"

"Nope." I exhale dramatically. 

"Why not?"

"Because I don't have to." Just leave it. I look back to my homework and finish it. I look at the clock and there's still five minutes before school lets out. Great five minutes of being stared at. There's a theory that, at least with dogs, if you look away from a staredown, it's a sign of submission. But if you stare back, it's a sign of challenge. The same rules, to a degree, apply when dealing with guys. Not that I know much about dealing with guys, or people for that matter. But what I do know could come helpful. Knowledge is always for the betterment of society. I glance at him and he's still staring at me. I stare back. He seems to know what I'm doing, because his gaze deepens. I follow his lead. He exhales deeply and looks away. "I will get you back," he says. I smirk, silently hoping that he won't because I'm really competitve. "I will." 

"Okay," I say. 

"Okay," he says.

"Okay,"I say.

"Okay," he says. I hide my facee in my hands. "Hey. Okay?"

"Okay." I'm a mixture of emotions between trying not laugh and trying not to sob. The bell rings.

"I'll see you on the bus Hazel." I don't know what my face looks like but he laughs at it and before he walks out he winks. I kind of melted.

 I am the third person on the bus; Jack is not amongst the other two. It seems, no matter how hard I try, I am early. It isn't a bad thing to be early to some things. But if it's a gathering and I arrive and it's still being set up I feel awkward. Given the only gatherings I go to are family reunions but still. Even though this school is smaller than average, there is still a steady stream of kids/ adolescents coming out. Only a few coming onto this bus, though. I see Ethan get onto his bus. We've never really "hung-out" (as normal people call it) before. We talk in school and see each other at the park or in a store ocasionally. But we haven't made any plans, it just happens sometimes. I see Jack, finally, walking toward the bus. He smiles first, and I return the actions moments later. He sits down, but doesn't say anything. Then, "What a slut time is. She screws everybody up." A smile grows on my face. I finally look at him. He has this huge grin that somehow fits on his face perfectly and makes him look perfect. Although it isn't that hard. There are those people that at first glance you think Wow that person is really attractive. But then you hear them talk or pull out a ciggarette and it just completely lowers their standards and how you view them. Then there are those people that you think They really aren't that attractive but are really nice so you talk to them and their inner beauty starts to shine out and after time you find their personality attractive. And there are the best kind. Those ones where you think Holy crap that is a beautiful person and you get to know them and they are amazing and perfect and you don't think that they could get any more perfect but then they do something and they defy the word 'impossible' and get even more perfect. So as their inner beauty starts shining onto their external beauty they become this angel that you wonder what you've ever done to recieve the pleasure of meeting them and you're so unextrordinary why are they even paying attention to you. That's how he is. He is an angel sent from heaven, a miracle when I needed it most. Not only in his beauty does he seem angelic, but in every movement; so fluid and precise. His imagination allows him to wonder into different worlds; For all I know he has. When you look at him you see perfection and if you see a scratch or a bruise you figure it was the fall from up above. The only thing that shows his true ality are his eyes. No angel could have those eyes. They're a blue-grey. An angel would have eyes like ice; pure. His eyes are like this: