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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Emotional · #1187831
this is just my first story. just a little crappy thing i guess.
          I walked out of study hall and she was the first person i saw. I always noticed her light brown hair. Partially, because i never actually saw her face. I don't know how, but i never timed it correctly enough to see her, and she seldom turned around. I decided to make it a point to see her by at least the end of this week.
          I understand that it is only the second week of school, but this is getting slightly ridiculous. This could be my dream girl we are talking about! However, i digress off this subject. It is making me far to depressed. Besides, she probably has a boyfriend. Or maybe she isn't ready for a relationship. She seems so sure of herself when i see an arm extend to wave at another individual. How could i have never seen her before. She can't be new. To me, she is. I sigh, out loud. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea. What if she hears me, and knows it is the sigh of a hopeless sixteen year old guy?
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          I can feel his presence behind me. I know it sounds silly, but i just can. I think tomorrow i will try to take longer to go past this lunchroom. Maybe I'll take a little longer at my locker, or a little longer putting my clarinet away. I slightly curse the band instructor for letting us out 4 minutes before the bell. why not 3, that way it takes me longer? Perhaps i can purposely take longer to get there.

         . Maybe if I dawdle a bit.. I think i might even stoop as low as to measure the time it takes me, or how far the band room is from the lunch room. If i take to long I might be late to Earth science. This is a risk i might be willing to take. Besides, It's not like its on a different floor. After i see him at least,I can engage in a conversation! That would be a dream! Hmm, how is it i am managing to babble in my own mind? I think I just heard him sigh. Do i dare turn around? No.. I am too afraid to see a boy holding hands with another girl. Or to look into the eyes of a boy that is not thinking of me as much as i am thinking of him.
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