100 Themes Challenge:
#1- Introduction
Today… had been terrible. Not only did you just about get stampeded by a group of angst-ridden teens on their way out the front door of the school, but you tripped on your way out, spilling all of your papers everywhere. And you mean everywhere. Every crevice a paper could have slipped into, it did, and even the ones it couldn't fit into, it tried. And don't even get you started on the footprints all over them. How do you even get that much mud on your shoes during the school day? It's like a child splatter-painted the contents of their diaper all over your physics homework, your English assignment, and just about every other paper you needed. You sighed. Hopefully tomorrow would be less of a disaster; it had to get worse before it could get better, right? Reflecting on the events of the day, you zoned out; right there, standing in the middle of the snowy, icy sidewalk, you thought about how bad today sucked. You even speculated how it could get worse; that wasn't the best decision, but it gave you something to think about. You could have tripped in the lunch room, like you did last week. Or maybe spill juice all over yourself, like you did Monday. Or what about getting your glasses lenses cracked again, or trip over yourself, or get rammed into a locker again, or put your shirt on backwards in the morning (okay, that one should have been forgiven, it was the morning right after you broke your glasses, and you couldn't see a damned thing), or even-
"Excuse me?" A voice suddenly broke your train of thought, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt something tap you on your shoulder. Evidently you startled the person who tapped your shoulder, too, because you heard a short gasp from behind you. You turned around, scared of what you might see- was it another bully, coming to break your newly-repaired glasses, once again? Wait, no, that… that's not it. It was a girl. You gulped. It… was a girl. And she was looking at you. No, more than that, she was talking to you, acknowledging you, touching you. 'Oh, man,' you thought to yourself, 'I'm probably in her way or something!'
Upon turning around, a pair of (e/c) orbs greeted your lavender-blue ones. She looked scared. No, scared wasn't the right word. Surprised? Yes, she looked surprised. But, why? She was holding the hand she used to tap your shoulder against her chest, and an unexpectedly kind smile tugged at her lips. You stood staring at each other for a moment, pink pixy-dust slowly accumulating on your cheeks… were you supposed to say something? You should probably say something, anything. But, as expected, she beat you to it.
"Is something the matter?" She paused, as if waiting for a response, but you were too lost in your thoughts to realize that. Her voice was gentle, motherly, even, "You've been standing in the middle of the sidewalk here for a while, I… I just wanted to make sure you were alright!" You could see a touch of worry glistening in her (e/c) eyes, and you stumbled over your words, averting her gaze. A prickle of warmth found its way to your cheeks once more, and you prayed to pancake Jesus she thought it was from the cold.
Your voice was soft, nearly inaudible to the untrained ear," O-oh, no, I… I'm fine, really I was just thinking, is all." Way to go, Mattie-ol-boy; stutter your way through a first-impression. You internally cursed your impending nervousness. You stifled an awkward and unusual chuckle, internally wincing once you heard the way your voice sounded.
You managed to push out a few more words, "Thank you, though." A smile made its way onto you face in an attempt to look genuine. Not that you weren't being genuine or anything, but you needed to seal the deal with something, and you had the feeling a kiss wasn't the way to go. You saw her smile grow wider, perhaps relieved. 'She seems so concerned about a person she doesn't know…' Was your first thought, but you quickly pushed it aside as she began speaking again.
"Oh, good!" Her smile softened a bit, and she gazed at the trees in the distance, then back to you. The trees here really were astonishing, especially during the winter. The Maple trees, especially, but that may be a biased accusation, on your part. They've always been your favorite.
"I'm (name), by the way," she continued. Pulling off a glove, she extended a hand towards you. 'Wha-… what do I do? Do I shake it back? Do I do the spit thing? No, of course I don't do the spit thing! That's disgusting. Do I have to take off my glove first? What if- oh to hell with it, I'm just making myself look stupid standing here. 'Your train of thought derailed as you moved to take off your glove, the ice biting at your fingertips as you shook her hand in return.
"I'm Matthew." You responded, returning her smile. You glanced back up towards her, catching a glimpse of her outfit in the process. A simple pair of skinny jeans, a red coat, and what looked like a pair of black boots on her feet. Shortly after, she retracted her hand, and you did the same.
"You go to the high school here, right?" She questioned, one eyebrow cocked, and her head just slightly tilted to the side. Had she seen you before? Did she know what lunch you had? Or, did she know your brother? That was probably why she knew you existed. Al was always popular with everyone, and it was only human nature to be curious about their family.
"Yeah." You responded. Way to dead-end a conversation. You almost sighed, until you noticed she was looking at her watch, her eyebrows coming together, and a look of disappointment threatening her smile.
"Oh, shoot… I've gotta go! But, I'll see you at lunch, okay?" Her smile gleamed as bright as ever when she looked at you. So she did know what lunch you had.
You had one thought in your head at the moment, 'Why… why does her smile look so… real? She seems to be… genuinely anticipating seeing me again.' You stammered an "Okay" as she began to walk past you, offering you one last smile and a "Bye, Matthew" before she began trucking ahead, leaving you only with a glimpse of her (h/l), (h/c) hair. You sighed once she was out of earshot. 'She's probably that way with everyone, there's probably nothing special about the way she treated me…" You thought, trying to convince yourself that she didn't actually care. But, still. It seemed so real. She seemed so real. You shook your head as you looked up one last time, to see the girl called "(name)" turning the corner down the street... to your street. 'Wait- does she live here? Like, on this road? No, no, she can't,' you thought. But, there she went. Two houses down from yours. She took out what appeared to be a key from her heavy-looking backpack, and opened the door, letting herself in. You looked down, and you could still see her fresh foot prints in the snow. 'This can't be happening,' you thought, 'this isn't possible. Has she always lived there? No, that's almost impossible. I would have noticed by now. But, even at that, where did she come from, and why am I just now noticing her?' You shook the thoughts from your head, supposing you could ask her tomorrow if you saw her, instead of speculating now. But… that would mean confronting her in front of her friends (you assumed she had some; someone as personable as her usually had a hard time getting rid of them), which would be embarrassing for both of you. Maybe if she was taking the same route home tomorrow, you could talk to her then. That would still mean talking to her. And what if she had lived here all this time? Would she be hurt that you hadn't noticed sooner? Well, to be fair, that means that she hadn't noticed you either. Or, would she brush you off, like everyone else did? That one was more likely. That realization hit you, just as the icy breeze from the north did at that moment. Even if you were one who enjoyed the cold, too much of it wasn't good for anyone. You needed to get inside; you could think there.