Bates & Landon [Wattys2015]

BATES

Bates

Her name was Landon.

It was such a pretty name to me. And she walked to my table. I knew her name because this one kid told me the whole classes names to me. The only name that stuck was hers anyways. So, it didn't really matter. Well, that, and I wanted to get to know her.

I was sitting alone again. I was a new kid; a weird unknown species that kids seemed to be repelled by me, well, it was like that in this school. It wasn't like I didn't like that no one wanted to talk to me, I was glad they were.

It was awkward when people tried to talk to me. They didn't know what to say and my lack of social efforts didn't help either. So, both sides (me being one side --awkward and unsociable-- and the other people trying to talk to me -- them not knowing what to say -- wasn't strong or winning.) So it didn't bother me too much.

She invaded my privacy. Any other time, I'd get upset and force that person to move and leave me alone. I'd tell them to leave, and possibly, never come back.

But this was different.

This was Landon. Yet, she was a likeable person (and highly attractive.) Even if I hadn't uttered a single word to her, I still wanted to get to know her.

She walked up to my table, and I wondered what she was going to say. I looked to my right -- two girls were watching me. Then to my left -- no one was there. She gave me a small smile. It was a pretty smile. Her lips stretching, eyebrows lifting just a little, eyes on mine. To say it was distracting was an understatement; it captivated all my senses.

Slowly, she sat down in front of me with pink cheeks. I looked over at her, wondering exactly why she was sitting here and what she wanted. Even if I liked her, it wasn't like she'd return the same feelings.

People always wanted something.

I ignored my thoughts and tried to focus on her and why she was in front of me. What exactly was she doing here?

Her green eyes were looking at her intertwined fingers, her brown hair was loose and down, covering half of her pink stained cheeks. Her top teeth were lightly biting her bottom lip. "H-Hi," she managed. "Um, how are you?" Her voice was small and quiet. She looked nervous. I was too, Landon.

My tongue didn't want to work, the words caught in my throat. This was the girl I had noticed the first day -- but I couldn't look at her again. Mostly because I was a wimp and scared to look at her, but also because I couldn't. "I'm okay," I choked out, but she didn't seem to notice that I choked on my words.

How could she? What did she want, anyways? "Nice," her eyes were on me and I looked up at her. Sighing, I looked at her. Admiring her, I became breathless. And I slowly felt my lungs be set on fire, making me gasp for air.

She was my air.

No. She was not.

No. She couldn't be. I shouldn't latch myself on this girl. Like always, they'll leave. And I'll be left with all the pain and mistakes of what I did. I cleared my throat, trying to stop the awkward situation and make it more comfortable. "Um," she said. "May I borrow a napkin?"

I sighed lowly, feeling hollow in my chest.

I handed her one, our fingers lightly skimming. My mind whispered to me, see they always want something from you. I pushed it down and grinned politely at her. She looked like she was going to throw up as she muttered a thanks. "Hey, are you okay?" I asked her, she looked kind of pale yet she had pink cheeks. Like she was going to throw up her lunch or something.

She nodded quickly, hair bouncing the slightest. "Y-Yeah, just not feeling well." She's lying. She looked behind her, looking at some girl who was already watching us. I guess they were friends. The girl, blonde hair and blue eyes, smiled at us both.

She looked a lot like a Barbie, that is what I'd call her. Not in a mean and hateful way, just because she simply reminded me of a Barbie. Blonde hair, blue eyes, straight-teethed smile, skinny body. She was perfect-looking. But she wasn't some plastic, bubble head -- at least, I hoped she wasn't.

But she wasn't what had my interest.

Landon was.

"Well, I hope you start feeling better." I told her honesty caring for her health. Even if she was lying, I hope she'd feel better for whatever reason she looked so sickly pale.

"What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, me too." She thanked me for the napkin and walked away as quickly as she could.

Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. She was my air, I needed her back. But, in a way, I could breath again. It was complicated though. She was making me breath irregularly when she was close to me a free seconds ago then I seemed suffocated when she wasn't around.

But, as I watched, she walked away. Just out of my reach.

Everything was out of my reach.

I needed to distract myself. So I began to think about my first day. My first day of school was okay. I mean, like usual, everyone looked at me, whispering, and such. I was used to it, the staring and whispering. I've always been a freak; an outcast even.

The first day, I was alone. Nothing unusual.

I remember walking in. My head was looking down at my feet, old and dirty converse I wore. I handed the teacher the piece of paper to sign and sat down. Later on, I dropped a pencil. Of course I did. So, I went to pick it up and saw a girl --which later I found out her name was Landon -- had a pencil between her teeth. Hair up in a pony tail and a look of concentration across her face, I watched her take the pencil away from her teeth and begin scribbling something down on a piece of paper. My finger twitched and I felt the need to grab my sketchbook and pencil and draw her. I could draw her jaw line easily, but her complexion would take a longer time. What I mean is, it would be hard to correctly draw her complex -- yet breathtaking beauty.

I had also wanted to look at what she was scribbling down and just get to know her. How cheesy.

I had looked away quickly, breath fast, and a racing heart. I didn't want to know her, actually. At all. At first, I did. But now . . . I certainly didn't. Not that I didn't like her, I just didn't wanna get myself involved with anything. I did like her, yes, I just didn't want to put myself out there and get hurt again.

A sadness crepts its way to me, making me stare off in space. Why can't I just be happy and just try to-- attempt to-- talk to her.

Battles amongst myself, even as I fought myself not to look at her, or think of her . . . .

I lost.

She invaded my mind and she took charge of everything, but I let her do it willingly.