Unaverage Obsession
She was normal. Devastatingly so.
Short hair held back by a simply headband, normal green eyes, average height, average weight. When asked to describe herself in one word, she laughed scornfully and replied, 'average'.
Her crushes were decidedly unaverage. When faced with the hottest boy in school, she glanced at his average black eyes and dark hair and replied 'average'.
She didn't like average.
She loved the unaverage.
The mysteriously smirking face the stared out at her from her favourite magazine, she loved. The bright greeny/blue eyes surrounded by a lake of expertly applied black eyeliner. The messy red hair that fell stylishly into aforementioned eyes. The decidedly unaverage tattoo above his left eyebrow. She loved the way he smiled, but didn't smile at the same time, looking out from multiple covers, smiling in the same way, but in different poses and different clothes.
The other one she loved equally. Mysterious white eyes, devoid of any pupil, though it was common knowledge that her wore contact lenses and had decided to get ones in that effect one day. Long brown hair, shiny and neatly kept, too long for a boy, but stylish on him.
She knew everything about them. One loved his older sister's chicken soup, beaches and, oddly enough, glassblowing. She loved the unaverage.
The other loved roast lamb, high rises and medicine, especially x-rays.
He was stunningly unaverage.
That was one of the reasons she was crushed when it was announced that they were gay … and together.
Still, now they were even more unaverage. After careful deliberation, she loved them even more.
She knew that she would never be able to be with them, with anyone like them.
So, after careful though, she noticed the boy living down the street from her. He had bright blonde hair, brighter blue eyes and three scars on each cheek. She decided that he was unaverage enough.