Disclaimer: Own nothing.
A/N:This got deleted for some reason... I didn't think it was inappropriate.
Mainly rambling, just felt like getting it out of document manager. In my opinion, it's crap, but read it anyway and come to your own conclusions.
He's one of the few who doesn't know me by reputation. To him, I'm an actual person, not just an easy girl or a sex machine. We even have something in common, a love of rhythm, of music, a craving for it to course our bodies. Yet here I am, the school's most wanted and attainable girl, unable to reach him.
I'm not going to lay myself down like a mat and let him tramp over me in muddy shoes. I vowed not to repeat the Craig fiasco. I was going to snag him without sex, without dressing like a hooker and using my bare skin as bait to hook him like a fish. I was going back to the basics, so he'd love me for, me. Manny Santos. Unfortunately, I've been after him for quite a large amount of time, and he's still not noticed me.
It's hard playing by the rules.
But he's worth it. He's got to be. Just by being around him I can tell he's different. From Craig, from J.T., from Spinner and definitely Sully. He's got compassion and a love of something other than flesh. It's like he's a celestial being come from space to walk amongst the horny humans. Sometimes, I'm in awe of his will power and devotion to music. Liberty thought that maybe one of the reasons I was so interested in his was because he's not interested. But that's Liberty, who, after years of being rejected by J.T. is now snogging him every time the option comes up.
If only Chris would be that way.
He's like the candy placed on the top shelf in a household kitchen and I'm the greedy five year old who has yet to reach it. Sometimes when I'm around him, I feel like the five year old. I need the candy, more than anything. It's a craving, a desire. I can't stop thinking about him until I have him in my grubby fingers.
And I took every chance I got to see him.
Unlike Emma, I never missed a rave. I always prayed he'd be up there to serenade me with a mix of brilliance coming from his fingers. Sometimes, I was lucky. He'd let his fingers fly across the various buttons. His fingers were magic. I wish he'd brush his fingers over my skin, so I could feel the magic too. But I'm not exactly lucky.
He could fill the empty in me. He's the missing piece of the Manny Santos jigsaw puzzle that has yet to fit in it's place.
I love his smile. The way his white teeth glisten and his kind brown eyes glimmer, revealing flecks of gold amongst the hazel. It's warm and inviting, the kind a prince supposedly has in the fairytales. My situation is very similar to Cinderella, only I'm the one discretely chasing after him, not vise versa. If they had awards for chasing members of the opposite sex I'd be the first to be nominated. I'd done it before, for nearly a year. With Craig.
Craig. The only boy I've found I can despise and adore at the same time. He uses me for the one thing other girls deny, then, when he's had his share runs off to be with Ashley, leaving me behind like an unflushed shit in a toilet. He'd come back, when he needed more.
But Chris isn't so fickle. Maybe that's why I find my infatuation with him growing like mold on rotting food. Fast and indestructible. Sometimes I just want it to go away, so I can be satisfied with the hordes of horny teenage boys just begging to take me to their bedroom. Other times, I can't help but want him to come and sweep me off my feet like I'm Cinderella and he's Prince Charming.
Now, after three months of practically stalking him, I find myself at the school dance. Alone. Another wall flower among the freshmen girls. He's somewhere out there, blissfully enjoying himself, in other words, ignoring me.
As the song ends and another begins, the masses of Degrassi students branch out, seeking refreshments and small talk before once again engrossing themselves in dancing.
"Hey Manny"
"Hey Chris"
We revel in the moment, well, more like I revel in the moment. I just stand there, smiling and slowly losing myself in his hazel eyes. He begins to speak just as some tacky freshmen girl with too much eyeliner on joins us.
"Chris, dance with me?" She asks in an extremely annoying perky voice. He, being the gentleman he is flashes his usual smile and takes her hand in his, obliging her the dance. I watch as the two of them come close together, her hands around his neck; his hands lingering around her waist. I want him. Badly. Desperately.I want him to stop dancing with her and come over to me, to talk and smile and dance. With me. Not her. Unfortunately, right now he's dancing with her, not me. And I can't do a damn thing about it.
He's been placed on the top shelf again. Just like candy.
I can't help but crave what I can't have.
Comments, flames, compliments, all welcome.