02. Eyes

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Mrs. Parker stood at the front of the class, and began writing on the whiteboard.

"Alright, today, class, we will be reviewing text structure. Now I taught you last week what that is, so today we are going to be writing a personal narrative and will be mainly focusing on the text structure of the story. You may get help from your partner, but no talking about personal lives because this is English class. If you want to talk about boyfriends or drama and whatnot, then just leave my class now. You have the entire class period to work on this, you may proceed."

People broke off into conversations about what to write about, and others discussing what text structure is. I was one of them.

Shawn had pulled out a green notebook and had already had his pen hovering over the paper. I was nervous, but I had to ask. "Shawn, um, if you don't mind, could you help me?"

He looked up at me and placed his pen parallel to his notebook. "Sure. You know what text structure is?"

I shook my head. "No, they never taught me at my old school."

"Do you at least have a notebook?" he asked.

I nodded and pulled one from my backpack. "Okay, I recommend you write this down. Mrs. Parker prefers for you to write the date down too, so I would do that." Shawn said. He was leaning over to me, his eyes on the paper.

He began explaining what text structure was, and I wrote as he talked. "Text structure is, like, the ways that authors organize information in text. Teaching students to recognize the structure of the text can help students focus attention on key concepts and...and...," he trailed off as our eyes met, and we sat there for a couple seconds, staring at each other's eyes. They were much prettier close up. He licked his lips and a swooning storm in my stomach thundered. He was definitely one of the most attractive boys I've ever seen. I snapped out of my daze as he began to mutter the rest,"the, uh, the key concepts and relationships, and to anticipate what's comes next... and monitor their, um, their comprehension as they read."

"Thank you, Shawn." I said quietly as I finished writing the definition on my paper. He cleared his throat and said,"No problem, Olivia."

We took advantage of the rest of the class to write our story, and I almost finished before the bell rung, so I shoved it all away into my binder and stored it in my backpack.

Shawn lifted his backpack over his shoulders,"So, Olivia, what class do you have next?" he asked.

I checked the schedule and read aloud,"Math... with Mr. Fryer?"

"Oh! I have him too! He's a funny teacher. He's a little snarky, and sometimes overly sarcastic and sounds rude, but he's likable. He's a good teacher. I'll walk you to his class." Shawn said with a smile. I thanked him, and we left the classroom and began walking up the stairs.

On our way up, people said hi and waved to him. Shawn smiled at them yet still payed all attention to me.

"So, this is your first day. What school did you go to in New York?" he asked.

"I went to James Madison. The name sounds all formal but then you get there and it's a ghetto mess. It wasn't my favorite place."

"Why'd you move?" We turned into the hallway, crowded by loud kids amidst conversations, where a group of guys yelled out Shawn's name and started talking to him but Shawn just nodded and turned back to me.

"My dad's job got transferred. My mom thought it was messed up, having to leave her job for him and all that, but she finally gave in and here we are." My mom actually really did get angry. I remember being in my bedroom, packing my books when I heard her screaming at him,"So your job is so much more important than mine? Your job is so urgent that we have to pack up the whole family to move to Canada? Well, what if I don't want to go to Canada, John? What about my fucking opinion?" and he would try and shout over her,"I do care about your opinion Amanda! Stop! I'm sorry!" and I would peek out of my bedroom door to see her standing in the living room, throwing books off the bookshelves everywhere, her beautiful red hair in a tangle, and her eyes wide with anger. She was pissed. But finally everything was okay, and now we're in Pickering. I don't have a clue how they managed to work it out, though.

"Oh. Well, I love it here. I'm sure you will." Shawn sighed. We got to Mr. Fryer's room, and were parted as he went to his seat in the back, and I got a seat next to a girl with short blonde hair and glasses in the front of the class after meeting with Mr. Fryer.

His class passed by quickly as he lectured on and on about something that I had never learned about, so I was interested.

Lunch was quite experience, though.

I had gotten my lunch, (meatloaf that wasn't really meatloaf-y, fruit salad, and an off-brand Gatorade) and I was sitting at an empty table, hoping that someone, anybody would come and sit with me, though I was secretly hoping it would be Shawn. More and more people had gotten their lunch and I still hadn't seen Shawn. I was getting let down, so I just shrugged it off and started picking at my food.

I had this feeling, though, that someone was staring right at me. I could feel someone's eyes burning into my skull, and sure enough, I looked up, and my eyes met those beautiful familiar eyes.

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(A/N) 5/5/15

i really appreciate comments lol aNYWAY. happy cinco de mayo! this story gets a lot more action soon, sorry if it's going slow:( tell me what you think please:) thank you so so much.

-sophia

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