Chapter 1:
I think it’s him. I think he’s my Prince Charming. You’ve heard all the stories. Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty so on and so forth. But…Alex, well he isn’t a spitting image of the princes from the stories you’ve heard. Sure, he’s tall, sweet, charming. He’s just not the stereotypical knight in shining armour. He wears black glasses with the thickest of rims. He never puts a book down. It’s almost as though if he stops reading he might drop dead. Stone-cold. It’s always a series of books. One week there was Harry Potter and the other it was The Hunger Games. Alex is shy and awkward. Introverted. He walks through the halls with his eyes glued to the black writing of a novel, his chin stuck to his chest. Snickering and varying levels of insulting words fill the classrooms and halls if he makes on move that doesn’t comply with society’s expectations of 16 year old boys. I glance at him from my locker which is about 10 lockers down from his. He always fidgets. Pushing each finger down a bit with his thumb. Forefinger first, then down to his pinky. Then he glides his fingers across his face, making contact with his chestnut hair, which always seemed to be radiating an energy of some sort, and moving to the left, always the left. Through the eyes of the world, he may not be perfect but to me, he’s amazing. He’s my perfect. Only, I don’t think he even knows I attend this school or that we have classes together.
I’m in the Library. I have a spare so I figured I’d take the time to study. Alex sits two tables away from me. Head down and hand at the ready to take any notes that he may need for an upcoming test. I should be taking notes too. I can’t. I just…can’t. I know, I know. I should just get up, out of my chair, go over and introduce myself. I just can’t bring myself to do that. I would never bestow such humiliation upon myself. What if he doesn’t even like me? What if he doesn’t say anything back? I might freeze up. So I resort to opening a Math textbook, putting my head down slowly and letting my flaming red hair fall over my shoulder. I continued to glance at my textbook, read a few passages and turn the page. High School can have its perks, but times like these aren’t one of them. If only he knew, knew how much I cared. No one knows, to be perfectly honest. Not even my closest friends. I can’t risk the chance of him knowing about my pathetic love story. I’d rather he hear it from me. Then I know exactly what his reaction is without having to hear it on the grapevine. One day, I’ll be courageous enough to get my act together and have a conversation, but that day isn’t today and it probably won’t be tomorrow either.
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