When I was in sixth grade, I couldn't help looking at this one guy. He wasn't the same as all the other gross boys in my class. He was special. On the first day, I saw him, his long, straight beautiful blonde hair, blues eyes that sparkled brighter than the ocean, and clear, soothing skin. When I walked by, he looked up and gave me a smile. His teeth were perfectly straight. They lined up beautifully. I couldn't help looking back, and I think I even blushed a little. I read his name tag. My contacts focused on it. It said "James".He gazed at me every once in a while, and so did I. He looked at me as if he were daring me, as if he was telling me, "what can you do?" I try to tell him "a lot of things" but it just doesn't to through right. Every since that first day, I've noticed everything he does. Like in gym when he scored a home run in baseball. Ok, well everyone saw that coming. But like how he opens his locker. His is three down from mine, and I always see him turning it with one spin, instead of a couple just to get to a number. Now that I think about it, I'm kinda a stalker. But not because I'm a weirdo. Because my attention has grasped onto him. And I'm going on adventures.
