He watched the way she smiled. The way her lips quirked upwards when he made fun of someone. She tried to hide her creeping grin with a small hand but he always saw it. And it made something inside his chest tighten and twirl in an odd fashion. She was beautiful. More than that. Beautiful was such a cliche word to describe her. So overused. So repetitive. In a way, she was a star and that was the only way he could describe her. Because there aren't words to describe stars. Stars are infinite. Stars are blinking. Stars are unrelenting. Stars stare at us. Stars represent humanity. Represent the little mess we called planet earth. And sure, I didn't notice her in the beginning. I didn't give a shit about her. Girls like her made be puke. Girls like her deserved worse than scum. He hated them more than anything.

There were these tiny dots on her face. We call them freckles but even that word didn't display how scattered the marks looked on her pale face. You could paint the most magnificent picture of a woman and I wouldn't care. Because she was here. She's all there is. Why bother with anything else?

An upturned nose. Cute when she laughed. Made it look like she was a small child. Like she wasn't growing old just yet. It turned red when it was winter, reminding him of rudolph the red-nosed reindeer and his childhood. What am I even saying? What childhood?

Green vibrant eyes. Like ocean tides. A dirty sunset. Long rivers rushing with colorful fish. Purple flowers and roses. A tree's leaves when they fell during autumn. When she cried, they turned an almost yellow hue. A sun. A bird's feather. Bright ice cream from the ice cream truck down the street. When she was angry, the emerald waves were violent. They crashed into a murky, hazel color. When she was happy, god, her eyes lifted you up. They crinkled at the sides and you knew her expression was genuine. She was real. And everything for a while would be okay.

Lips. Plump and red. Always red even when she never wore lipstick. Her bottom lip was bigger than the top one which made it impossible to refuse her pouting face. The things that came out of her mouth though...well, they were pretty annoying. And it made him pull away from her. Pull away from his attraction towards her.

What did I expect? I was trash to her. Trash to mostly everybody.

But here we were. I had never been in the same room as her. And that was okay. I never noticed her till that day. Till it was just the five of us. Five stupid kids. I remember laughing to myself on that morning. Detention was pretty normal. I expected the usual.

I wish I hadn't.

On March 24, detention was served. The Breakfast Club was created.

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