Memories

Memories: Chapter 4

With the consideration of the horrid quiz, the rest of the day passed pretty quickly. Though at one point during my last class, history, I couldn't stop thinking about that boy I'd ran into earlier. I mean, how could you not? He had pale, alabaster skin that wasn't sickly but wasn't normal either; broad, bold, shoulders that were connected to his long, strong arms; long, nimble-seeming fingers, that I imagined stroking my cheek, with those perfectly cupped hands of his, with those comforting warm palms; messy yet gorgeous hair that was a deep dark chocolate-brown; smooth and perfectly chiseled features; a muscular body that had been grinning through his black shirt, it's smile as bright as his perfectly white teeth; piercing, blue-gray eyes, that seemed to have some other color in them that I couldn't describe, just adding another mystery to his case. Everything about him was just so-

"Miss Roux... Miss Roux? Miss Roux!"

I jumped, scared at the sound- or more like "ear-piercing yell"- of my name. I looked up to see Mr. Woods giving me a very annoyed look. I'd been staring off into space looking like an idiot, hadn't I? All this time, just thinking stupidly. Focusing on nothing in particular, as I daydreamed about some guy that I didn't even know. That was so me. Doing stupid things. Yeah- so me.

Mr. Woods was going on about some president... something about being assassinated- John. F. Kennedy? No. Not him; we talked about him before. Though, he could be recapping- would he? No. No? I don't know.

I was zoning in and out of the lecture- then the bell rang and I jumped, almost violently, in my seat, as I scrambled to get up. Saved by the bell, I thought. In another time, I would have smirked at that, maybe even laughed.

I felt as if someone was watching me, but ignored the feeling. Many people paid no attention to me, but those who did gave me stares. They looked at me as if I was the ground on which they walked on. Which I was. They looked at me as if I was a freak of nature. Which I probably was. They looked at me as if I shouldn't be here; as if I didn't have a right to belong. I didn't. I haven't since three months back. And it would stay that way.

Though, for some reason, this stare didn't seem like the others; it felt more of curiosity then of disgust or of superiority. I felt of careful seeking and close watching; a gentle look instead of a fierce one. Watching the way that one watches a gazelle almost, with careful curiosity, afraid to move too suddenly and disturb its majestic run, whilst amazed by the beauty held within the delicate animal, oblivious to its captors around it. 

As I started to head out of the classroom, Mr. Woods said, "Miss Roux?" I turned slowly to see him sitting by his desk.

There goes my hero... I thought, forgetting any ideas of escaping soon.

He had grayish-whitish hair, light skin, but was still pretty young looking for someone who was supposed to be in his late forties. He wore a sweater vest and a beige pants that partially covered his brown shoes. "Miss Roux?" he asked again. "Yes, Mr. Woods?" I asked him back. "Would you like to explain to me why you weren't paying attention in class?" Well, no, I wouldn't, and no, I couldn't, so I guess I'll just have to lie to you then.

"I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again," I told his meekly, my eyes focused on the ground, as I was more interested in the different sized squares of sickly green and disturbing white of the floor, then his hard teacher glare. It suits him well; I have nothing against the man, but I'd never be able to say that I like him that much, either. He's the reason that I'm always late for my other job that I have after school. He gave me this lecture about being focused on your school work and that "You teenagers should see that life is more than just beer and s-" Just thank God I walked out of the room before I heard the rest of that, concluding his speech with out his approval.