His Perspective

Perspective #3

Perspective #3

Two weeks later and I was actually starting to get the hang of this whole "yearbook" thing. I had become close with most of the members, especially Leena and Mason, but I'd have to say my favorite is Chuck.

The kid is hilarious.

Mason and Leena, at separate times, had been showing me the ropes of yearbook. Now, I could come into the room and know exactly what to do and most of the time, exactly how to do it.

I hate to admit it, but yearbook isn't as bad as I thought it would be. It turns out, that not all artsy people are hippies! I'm actually starting to look forward to yearbook after school everyday and I end up staying longer than I really need to, just to hang out with the people.

Right now, however, I was making my way towards the cafeteria, but once I got close, I stopped. I had a bit of a headache today and loud noisy children was not something I wanted to deal with. After contemplating for a bit, I made my decision to go over to the garden that Mason showed me and do homework or something.

When I walked out to the garden, however, Mason was already there. I contemplated on turning around because maybe he wanted to be alone, but then I thought of the noisy cafeteria and decided that I didn't care if I annoyed him, I was not going back there.

I walked over to the bench and sat down next to him. "Hi, Mason," I greeted.

He looked up from his notebook and gave me one of his breathtaking smiles. "Hello Kennedy. What brings you here this fine morning?"

I shrugged. "Didn't feel like going to the cafeteria."

He nodded and smiled. "I never go there. It's too noisy. I prefer the peace and quiet."

I stared at him. "You're really deep," I stated.

He raised his eyebrow at me. "All I said was that I liked the quiet."

I shrugged. "Not that. You just, are."

His eyebrow was still raised but he shook his head and looked back at his notebook. I opened my bookbag and got a book from it.

"What are you reading?" Mason asked, just as soon as I opened it.

"I don't know. I just picked it up. I think it's about a British guy," I answered, not looking at him, but at the book.

"A British guy?"

There was something about the way he said 'British' that sounded off. "Yeah. Are you British?" When he said the word, it didn't sound like a regular American.

A smile broke out onto his face. "Ah, so you figured out my secret," he said, this time with an all out British accent.

"You're really from Britain?" I said, a little shocked. He seemed like a normal, American guy to me. But now that I think of it, the accent did sneak out sometimes.

"I lived there up until I was eight, but my parents still have the accent, so it's hard to shake it off. Plus, I stayed there the summer before school started and I sort of caught on really easily. I'd like to think that the accent's gone, but sometimes it just comes out," he explained.

"Wow," I said, looking at him. "Learning new things everyday." 

He smiled and just then, the wind blew, making the hair that was peaking out from under his beanie wisp around a little bit. It was literally the perfect moment and I found myself wishing that I had a camera to take a picture. I considered grabbing his camera and taking it.

"But aren't girls supposed to love British guys?" He asked, still smiling.

I tried to calm my heart by thinking of stinky feet and bad cheese, because the way he was looking at me was going to kill me soon. It looked like he was literally reading me. "Are you saying that I'm one of those those stereotypical girls who's obsessed with boys?"