AN: Okay, this is kinda how I feel and usually I vent my emotions through writing . . . So I put my emotions through Ami's life. Yes, there is this boy in my life and even though Ami may not exactly do these things, hey having a crush on someone can make you act in odd ways. So I thought of this idea and starting writing it back in October, and I found a new guy to write this after now. So Enjoy x3
Ami's Point Of View
"Love is not what we become, but who we already are."
Stand Straight, shoulders back, chin up, eyes forward, smile I reminded myself as I walked into the classroom. No, it was an impossible mission. Putting my glasses back on I slouched down into my chair taking my normal position. Seconds later, I regretted this decision and slid even further down into my desk. As his 6'3'' build walked into the classroom with such pride. His eyes never once glancing in my direction. Just ignoring me without a second thought. Probably doesn't even know I exist. I cleared my throat as a weak effort to be recognized, it was hopeless.
I took out my blue composition notebook with the word, "Music" etched on it's cover neatly in black sharpie marker. I stole a quick glance at him as he took his seat next to me. He looked exactly how he did in my dream last night; Flawless. Everything about him was perfect, that smile that could capture a girl's heart in 3 seconds flat, the way that one strand of hair always falls perfectly in front of his eyes, and Oh, those eyes! He must have felt my gaze on him because suddenly he turned to look at me with those eyes. I dropped my attention down to my notebook and pretended to flip through the blue lined pages, pretending to be intently interested my notes. I wouldn't dare glance over my shoulder to see if he was still studying me, so instead I turned my attention to the window. The light from the sunny day was making me squint.
I'm spending my summer in school, summer school. But, unlike all the other students in this class, I didn't fail, I just want to get ahead. Get the best of my High School years and fly through them as fast as I can. But more simply put it I'm a geek. A bookworm. A nerd.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand make a quick motion to tap my shoulder. Every muscle in my body tensed and I'm sure my cheeks were starting to turn red, like they always do. His touch, once on my shoulder, was so light I could barley feel his fingers. I turned my body to look at him, yet my eyes were fixed on the wooden floor. I couldn't bring myself to look directly at him, at that moment, I didn't feel worthy.
"Uhm, last nights homework . . . did you do it?"
Of Course, I finished it! I also finished the rest of this weeks assignment! Don't you know who I am? I am the only single most intelligent person in this school. Every Night of the week (when I'm not out saving the world) I spend countless hours on the computer. The force behind me is pushing me with an even greater force. Always being driven to know everything and work harder. But for now I'm content with not knowing one thing- what you're thinking right this second.
Yet all I said was, "Yea, I did it."
"Well, I was a little stumped with question 13. Do you know the answer?" With one swift movement, he put his pencil behind his ear.
"Me." I managed to squeak.
"What? You're the answer?" he asked, confused.
"Uhm. No!" I could feel my cheeks turning a darker shade of crimson. Ugh! How can I be so smart but make simple mistake like that! I practiced what I would finally say to him a million times over!
Supposedly, the conversation would lead him into giving me an invitation to get to know him better. He would laugh at my wit and think that there was no one as interesting as I.
I took a deep breath, "Beethoven's Fate Knocking at the Door"
"Thanks," he smiled a breath taking smile, and pulled the pencil out from behind his ear.
I watched him write down the answer on the worksheet, sloppily and turn around to face the blond in back him. Trying to charm her with his humor. She barley chuckled, while I would have had a giggling fit. But the joke was not meant for me. I watched her body motions as she leaned closer to him, their noses almost touching as she swirled locks of her strawberry blonde hair around her pink manicured fingers. I nonchalantly pushed my pencil off the desk.
The soft sound of the writing utensil hitting the wood floor awoke him of his gaze. Shifting his attention from her eyes to the ground, he leaned over and picked up the pencil. His head came up, are noses closer then hers was too his. Goosebumps ran down my arms and my heart started to race. My hand softly brushed against his as I gained possession of my pencil once again. And as if it were just a figment of his imagination, he turned around. His attention once again on the blond, beauty queen.
Disappointed, I hunched back down in the small chair and watched as she pulled the pink lip gloss out of her bag. With a little too much exaggeration, she moistened her lips and pressed them firmly together. He couldn't take those beautiful eyes off her. I wanted to scream at him, yell and shake him to wake up! Couldn't he see? This girl was a complete fake! Behind that beauty queen exterior was a wasted empty space!
Someday we will save each other, I vowed silently, In an odd way, we are similar. Both of us are in dire need of being rescued from a fantasy world. This alone is grounds for establishing a relationship.
Tonight I could go to CVS and buy some blonde hair dye to cover up my unique blue hair, and maybe some lip gloss. I could even search around the mall for hours trying to find that perfect tank top that she was wearing. Or take advantage of the sunny days and tan my pale white skin. Instead, I will probably end up doing Homework.
No, tonight I will practice! Practice: practice standing straight, shoulders back, chin up and smiling. Then maybe tomorrow he will ask me for number 12. . . and my name.