A/N: Inspired by Augustana’s “Boston”

I saw you sitting alone at the table across from ours. Hunched over a ratty textbook, pushing your waterfall of brown hair off your face repeatedly. You seemed frustrated. The table was covered in easer shavings, your leg jiggled in a nervous manner, the way you glanced at the clock, six minutes until first hour, I could tell you wished it would stop. Again you flipped the pencil over and erased, you had nice hands. From where I sat, among a rowdy group and of boys and girls, I could see bored scribbles in the margins of the notebook, flowering vines and shooting stars. How unlike the bits of dark poetry and inside jokes covering the front of my purple binder. You were so different from my group, yet I was attracted to you. I watched your hands, soft, grayish in dim light of the commons, long, just the hands I would want toying across my face and running through my hair. I slid over slightly on the carpeted bench, hoping to catch a glance at what you were studying. You eyes were scanning your paper, they raised again to look at the clock and I saw them. I was so surprised I almost fell over. Your eyes were the lightest blue, almost gray, they were shallow, as if long ago a wall was put up, they took everything in but gave nothing back. Your hands, I think I loved them, ran through your hair again and I wished it were mine. I didn’t know you, you could’ve been a nerd, or a bitch, but I was willing to take my chances. You began to gather your papers, an english textbook, an enriched english textbook, it matched mine, but I’d never seen you in class. You stood up and I could really look at you. Your whole body was long, your arms, legs, nose, all of it long and thin. All of sudden, you faced me and caught my eye, I didn’t look away. Your clothes hung off your body, purplish circles darkened your eye sockets. Last night obviously wasn’t a night for sleeping. You sighed, shoulders heaving exaggeratedly, and walked away. I almost stood up and ran after you, that vacant look in your eyes made me so sad, I want to make you happy.

“Ky?” My girlfriend, Emma, slipped her cold hand around my wrist. She smiled and I let her pull me up. Our group was departing, there was massive hugging, shouting the end of jokes, and general exuberant happiness. Sometimes I longed for quiet. Emma was chattering away, something about our plans for the weekend, always the same, they get drunk, I supervise, and handle the parents.

“You’re coming right?” Emma bobbed along next to me, her purple hair short and spiky. The epitome of emo, if I have ever seen it.

“I’ll have to check with my parents.”

“Would that stop you?”

“No.” I’ll admit I do enjoy going because everyone’s so fucked up they can barely stand, it’s more entertaining than hanging at home. Usually Ceramics is my favorites class because it’s the only class I have with Emma and because I’m good at it, but today I could hardly get my pot centered before it was time to clean up.

“You feeling okay, Kyle?” My teacher swung by.

“Fine, just a little tired.” I lied. Actually I was thinking about english, wondering if you’d be there, maybe I’d talk to you, but I would’ve killed just to see your eyes again. I moved through the day in slow motion, like moving under water, but no one really seeme to notice, it wouldn’t have been the first time I acted moody. I thought I would be first to english that, I had practically ran through the halls. But you were there. Still hunched in the back, still scribbling furiously. I set my books down and walked over to you. I straddled to chair in front of you. You looked up and again I was struck by your eyes.

“Hi, I don’t think I know you, I’m Kyle.” I reached out my hand but you didn’t take it.

“Charlie.” You answered, your voice surprised me. It was low and melodic. I had expected it to be high like a canary.

“Are you busy this weekend?”

You nodded, and I knew I was dismissed. But that wouldn’t stop me, I would never stop until I saw your eyes open again, until you started to let in the world, and let in me.