APRICITY... Jan Rozmanowski

Polar opposites

What the fuck just happened

I couldn't focus on the lesson at all. My mind was consumed by one thought. Him. All I wanted was to see him. I had never seen a boy like him before - so cute and polite. His dirty blonde hair and mesmerizing blue-grey eyes had taken over my every thought. Jan was everywhere.

Okay girl, calm down.

The lesson finally ended after what felt like an eternity, and I let out a sigh of relief. The silence was suffocating. I hurriedly left the classroom, making my way to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. I had never felt this way before. Why am I feeling like this? What is wrong with me?

I pushed open the old metal door that led to the bathroom stalls with a creak and headed straight for the sinks. My head was pounding with a whirlwind of endless thoughts. The ice-cold water felt refreshing against my burning skin. Just then, Sophie entered.

"There you are!" She exclaimed, relieved to have found me.
"I was looking for you. Are you okay? I saw you rushing in here, and I knew something was up," She furrowed her brows when she saw my face.

"Yeah, Sophie, never been better!" I replied sarcastically, drying my face with a paper towel.

"Is it about him?" she whispered.

"Noooo..." I tried to keep a straight face.

She smirked. "I saw you talking to him. Who is he?" She asked, curiosity plastered on her face.

"I wish I knew. He just asked for directions," I shrugged and let out a sigh.

"Oh, I see. He's cute. Definitely your type," she said, wiping away the smudged mascara from her eyelids.

"No, he's not! Plus, we have no idea what he's like. He could easily be a cold-blooded serial killer for all we know!" I protested.

"Woah, girl. You can't keep lying to yourself. You totally blushed," she replied, adopting her inner valley girl accent, completely ignoring my words.

"Just shut up. You're not helping," I said, looking straight into her piercing blue eyes.

Sophie and I are complete opposites. She is 5'5 and only two months older than me. With her ocean blue eyes, dark brown hair, and a cute beauty mark above her top lip, she had no trouble attracting attention. She even has a boyfriend named Clay, even though it's complicated and I don't really like him. Everyone likes her. 

I couldn't say the same for myself. I'm 5'6, with brown eyes, ginger-red hair, and freckles from the sun that I used to get bullied for. I was quite literally invisible. The only "relationship" I have ever had was a dare when I was 12, and I cried for two days. I thought Mark actually liked me. What an asshole.

We have been friends since kindergarten. When she moved from Tennessee to London, we instantly clicked. We were like Bonnie and Clyde, two puzzle pieces, day and night, moon and sun.

I ended the conversation and walked out of the bathroom. And of course, there he was, looking for someone. When he saw me, his eyes lit up like fireworks. He quickened his pace, walking towards me, anxiously fiddling with a small piece of paper in his left hand.

"Hey...you...I didn't get your name?" he asked, genuinely interested when he'd finally approached me.

He was actually asking for my name. Please don't let this be a prank, please, God, please.

"It's Julia. Nice to meet you," I replied, shaking his hand. His hands were warm and skin smooth.

"My pleasure!" he smiled, not breaking eye contact for a second. 

"So, where are you from? I mean, your accent is definitely not English nor American...I'm sorry I-"

"Poland. You know where it is, right?" he interrupted my stuttering, a warm smile on his face. 

Great start Julia, really great start...

"Oh, yeah, of course. Geography. Duh," I joked, failing miserably, a wave of cringe washing over me.

"Haha, you're funny," he chuckled, trying to ease the awkwardness between us. He was so cute...no-no-no Julia. Don't even think about it.

"Anyway, why are you here? I'm not judging or anything, but why are you not in Poland?" Great. Yes, embarrass yourself even more.

"My whole family are musicians, so they thought London would offer better opportunities for us...though only I live here," he explained, not even batting an eye about my strange questions.

"Oh, that makes sense. So, what do you do?" I asked, not caring if I was bombarding him with questions anymore. I just needed to know more about him.

"I sing," he replied, looking down at the cold floor tiles.

"That's cool...yeah. I wish I could sing, but I can only play the guitar," I said, also looking down, the bell ringing just then.

"Anyway, here, take this," he scribbled something onto a small piece of paper and handed it to me, already walking away with the same smile, making a calling gesture with his right hand.

As I walked to my next class, I opened the note.

+44 20 5734 0136
call me
Jan :)

Oh boy...