The Perfect Boy

The Fateful Day

I was standing here on the podium behind the lectern giving one of those speeches that I was so used to giving. Having involved myself in a number of extracurricular activities in the high school  I attended gave me the opportunities to express myself in ways that could not be possible if I stayed at home after school. And as I did that all throughout my years in school – now I was in my senior year – I was getting more and more proficient in giving speeches – by now, it was like blood that ran through my vein.  

I could say with a humble attitude (haa!), I was one of the most sought after boys in my school aside from those idiot jocks who went from party to party, bottle to bottle, girl to girl.

Yes, I was well known in my school, not only for my apparent good looks  (how humble of me!) and, must I say, charming personality (proved me right!), but also for the fact that my face appeared in so many school events and activities.  Pictures of me made constant appearance in school bulletins, annuals,  boards, and  were constant reminder of my achievements and who I was.

Prior to today, I was a happy single boy of seventeen years with a dazzling identity and a matching sparkling track record.

Now, it was getting increasingly difficult to continue the words I wanted to say as those pair of eyes were staring at me ever so intently.

They were not just a regular pair of eyes; they belong to a face that had the most astonishing look I had ever seen in a while. It was the face of a handsome chap. He seemed mesmerized by me or my speech or whatever, I did not know exactly.   His eyes were transfixed on my and his mouth was slightly ajar, and if I had looked closely at him, I would probably have seen traces of drool at the sides of his mouth.   I might probably be like a school celebrity to him, but little did he know that from today onward, he was going to have the biggest part in steering the course of my life and filling it with his presence.

Those eyes, that smile, the flexes on his face that it caused when he did it – just about everything about his face - captivated me since I first noticed him sitting on the second row in the school auditorium.  Among the throng of audience, he seemed to be spotlighted to me.   He had the brightest of smiles. The most endearing aura enveloped his being. The simple gestures he made as he was sitting had both a calming effect and one that caused some kind of stirring within me.

Although I was standing there, I felt like I was pulled onto him like a magnet. The more I looked into his face, the more nauseous I felt. It had been probably more than 30 minutes standing up here and my knees were getting weaker by the minute, and they were going to buckle any moment if I did not complete my speech right there and then. So, I did it to the background of thunderous applause. My classmates were standing on their feet, they were cheering me on as I bowed.

As I was walking down the podium with the sound of hand claps echoing, I glanced back onto the face that had caused my heart to beat like I was running for my life in the thirty or so minutes I was behind the lectern. And I saw that smile one more time while walking down the steps. And as I did that, I stumbled down the steps.

I dived face first and within an instant, my nose hit that hard cold ground of the school audience. 

My name was Aspen, Aspen Drury, by the way, and I knew right then that that boy, whatever his name was, was going to be the end of me.