Countless days passed as I fell easily into a daily routine. As usual I didn't see much of my father except on Saturdays which was the only day he would claim for himself. Since my mother's death he rarely liked to have time to breathe let alone think and he could hardly stand to look me in the eye for fear of seeing her there. I didn't mind being alone considering I wasn't a very social person. I preferred to do things in my own time and rhythm which was another quality my mother had shared with me. I usually spent my free time reading books or walking,it somehow soothed me and I found it a peaceful way to learn about the places we moved to.
Jake was the only friend I had managed to make in the weeks I had been at tick hill, this didn't bother me; I wasn't easy to talk to or get along with. Jake had done well thus far. I had discovered that his father had run out on his mother and himself when he was newborn which didn't seem to phase him as he said he couldn't miss a stranger. Jake was an attractive boy of 17 years with dark brown locks of gelled hair and deep sea green eyes. His muscley structure left half the girls in school lusting for him and the other half dreaming of him. When I looked at him I saw Jake, the handsome and loyal friend I had acquired my first day at Brunmore college. I could kiss him on the lips as easily as I would hug him everyday if I was given the opportunity but I knew there'd be no excitement in the kiss, only the typical lusts of a girl my age. He had introduced me to his other friends at the college but I preferred time alone compared to a group of noisy teenage boys and hormonal teenage girls.
Typically Dylan was in my English class which took up most of my timetable; we sat next to each other during the lesson due to a lack of free space. Talking seemed to be neither of our strong points which didn't appear to bother either of us, especially Dylan who already despised me. There was something about his cold hard eyes that had me drawn to him, I didn't expect to find him so interesting. He didn't communicate with anybody at school except for his sister who hardly ever made an appearance anyway. From what had been described to me, she was just as beautiful as Dylan.
He didn't seem athletic but he moved with grace and ease, he also seemed constantly on edge; waiting for something to catch him off guard, something serious. Even though we were made to sit together he was yet to utter a word to me. It bothered me that his whole body would become rigid when I came into view and yet everybody else remained unnoticed by him. It made me feel special although I would've preferred to have a positive effect on him.
I caught myself becoming more and more aware of him with each developing day: the way his tousled blonde hair would sit atop his head simply and yet look as if it had been freshly styled for the cover of a magazine; his broad eyes that appeared to be a sky blue but would change abruptly on uncertain days to a deep crimson red and the manly build of his perfect body that moved with the grace of a dancer or a lifelong sports player. There was no way to describe him other than beautiful.
Jake had become increasingly annoyed with the way in which Dylan had captured my attention. Most of the girls at school would ignore him and I seemingly studied him like a piece of art work - or so Jake claimed. In an effort to cheer him up I sat with him and his friends during lunch hour and would walk with him to our lessons - most of which we shared. I could understand why Jake was annoyed with me, Dylan had become a bad fixation and I couldn't understand how it had come about. He was a bad habit and I hadn't even said hello to him yet. There was something alluring about him, he was like a force of nature.