Victoria Qiu (9) | STAFF REPORTER
Finally, it’s Friday.
A sigh of relief escapes my lips as the final bell rings. I take my bag, say a hurried goodbye to my teacher, and rush out into the hallways. Not long after, it became a rush of laughter and talking, as more and more people spill out of different classrooms. I grab my jacket from my locker and slam it closed, wishing beyond hope I never need to open it again. I wish.
The hallways now resemble a zoo, and it takes all my might to squeeze through to the bench on the far side of the lobby, near the music room. I look around the placid surroundings before sighing and reaching into my bag, taking out my math textbook and notebook. At least the weekends provide some comfort from the never-ending cycle of work.
As I struggle with shoving my laptop back into my bag, something feels very different. The air feels strange around me as if some new presence was around. I look up from my bag and nearly fall off my seat when I see them.
Them. Every inch of them is just pure perfection. It’s as if God had moulded them himself, perfecting every inch while the angels stumbled over minor steps with everyone else. They were everything I wanted to be; smart, popular, athletic, outgoing (and undeniably hot)… the list never ends. Perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect everything… if only they would ever see me like that.
I snap out of my daze and notice that they’re still looking at me. A million thoughts run through my mind; do I look okay? Maybe they think I’m a nerd, taking out my homework. Should I wave, or would that be awkward? I thought they were picked up by their parents, what are they doing here? Why can’t I just be normal, like everyone else?
I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t notice them walking over until they’re standing right next to me. Before I can even process what’s happening, their gaze lands on me and, oh no, I’m staring right into their eyes. Those large, soulful eyes, melted right into my soul. “My parents are late, can I sit here while I wait?” is what I hear before the excessive internal screaming starts. They want to sit with us! The person with the most stunning eyes and soft-spoken voice ever wants to sit with plain, unimportant me? “Oh, sure!” I nod tentatively and slide my bag over to the end of the bench, making sure that they have all the space they need. They sit down and open their bag, pulling out a book.
Not just any book. My favourite book.
“Oh, you like that book too?” I ask, regretting instantly the tone I used. Was I too direct? “Oh, yeah, it’s actually one of my favourite! It’s so romantic and the character arcs are so captivating,” they look at me, a sense of wonder and shock. “You like this book too?”
I don’t even know what happened next, but suddenly, we’re both over the book and laughing at a scene until tears form in our eyes. I haven’t laughed like this for years and never would’ve expected it to come from someone so hopelessly out of reach of me. I look over, noticing how different they look from the casual, mysterious person I’ve known for the past year. They looked so carefree and happy; their perfect eyes were crinkled, their mouth smiling wide, like a young child running to the ice cream truck. Giggling, I check my watch and my heart sinks, looking at the time. 3:28 pm.
I can feel their mood shift when I look up again, all hints of laughter gone. “I’m so sorry, I have to go. I lost track of time and my bus arrives in two minutes,” I rambled, already stuffing my jacket into my backpack. “Oh, it’s okay! Do you have Instagram? I’ll add you there,” they reply, smiling. Was it just my imagination, or did they sound disappointed? “Oh, yes of course! Here, I’ll add you when I get home,” I show them my user and watch them send me a follow request.
“I’ll see you around?” they ask, watching me put on my coat. Was that hope I detected? Oh get a grip, I’m overthinking this, again. “Of course! See you soon!” I reply, a small smile growing on my face. It’s almost as if I can feel their mesmerizing eyes on me as I walk out the door. I hear them muttering under their breath as the icy wind hits my face like a slap. Wish I could’ve heard what they were saying, but I have a bus to catch. I can already see the headlights approaching the bus stop.
I hope I meet you again someday and laugh with you again.
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I watch them turn and walk outside, running to catch the bus. Why didn’t I propose to drive them home? An opportunity wasted. I slowly pack my things and run my hand over the book, the one that started the conversation.
“Thank god I bought this book, I knew that they would like it. Am I dreaming, or did the most perfect being in this universe let me sit with them? I wish I had let them know…”
My eyes shift to my phone, where their Instagram user stares back at me. For a moment, I almost message them, letting them know how much fun it was being with them. Instead, I close my phone and slide it into my pocket. Never mind, they probably found me annoying anyways.
I sigh, put away the book, and slowly walk outside. The image of their smile when I brought out the book replays in my mind. I wave at the car that pulls up. I grimace, wondering how I’m going to explain that I made them wait one hour for me.
Maybe one day, you’ll think of me the same way I think about you.
