Infatuated

“Autumn!” I heard my mother scream as I woke up that morning. My eyes opened gradually and gazed at the alarm clock sat on the round woven bedside table. The blood red numbers screaming how many hours I had left to live– “9:15”. My eyes widened and a sickening array of moths entered my stomach. I ran from under the covers, darting to the slightly ajar door.
“I’m – cough – sick! I need to stay off –cough- please?!” I yelled, pleading for an excuse and just praying she may believe me just this once... no way.

“Stop wasting my time, Autumn and hurry up! You’re all ready late for home room!” I whined as I frantically moved around the bedroom. I was thinking so fast I couldn’t remember which way the shirt went, which foot the shoe went on, what the hairdryer was for. I stopped suddenly in my tracks after tearing the drawers to shreds. ‘Be calm, deep breaths Auts, deep breaths,’ within a second my eyes snapped open and I was brought back into this harsh reality, who was I trying to kid?

After five minutes, I’d gotten ready and flung myself down the stairs. Mom had already left for work, good thing really; I didn’t want another episode to slow me down on my way to school. I looked from where I was stood to the kitchen; no, not enough time to eat. Leaping to the door and giving myself a quick once over in the mirror, I dashed through the thick blanket of oak. The spring wind hit me as soon as I stepped out sending my brunette bangs flying into my face and blurring my vision. I growled. Not stopping, I carried on, racing in the direction of school until my lungs burned. My breathing was short and jagged but I kept on running.

By the time I’d got there the halls were empty. The only sound was my rapid breathing, as I tried to regain my breath. My eyes wandered past the cold, vacant lockers to the clock, hanging in the center of the wall. “9:56” – First period: Biology. I groaned, and jogged to room sixty-seven. As I approached the door to enter I heard Mr Walker’s booming voice giving a lecture on the digestive system. I placed a hand on the cold metal handle and winced as I mentally slapped myself. I quietly turned the metal as if he wouldn’t notice and opened the door. The whole class averted their attention to me, including Mr Walker, a smirk played on his brilliantly intimidating face.

“So, Miss Matthews, late again I see,” he began in a patronising tone. His smirk dropped but he kept his gaze firmly fixed on me and his voice froze over to nothing but an icy chill. “Take a seat and I’ll speak with you after class.” I nodded and could feel everyone’s eyes still on me but I chose to act oblivious. I started to my seat but something wasn’t right. Sat by the window, illuminated by the Nevada sunlight, sat a boy.

Arms folded loosely across the desk, he appeared to be the only person whose eyes weren’t trying to burn through my skull. I slowly made my way over, taking the seat next him, closest to the window and brought out my notebook. He didn’t move once when I did this, I tried to make out the writing on the board but none of it made sense without an explanation.

I looked over to the boy; his pale complexion complemented him perfectly. His hair was a dark brown, fairly long and straight, brushed forward across his face. His eyes were fixated on the table in front of us. His pinstriped black button up shirt clung to him, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I hadn’t seen him before. His gaze remained fixed on the table but his arms tightened slightly as he cleared his throat. It was then that I realised I was staring; I blushed and looked back to the board.

“Uh, could–could I copy out your notes?” I got up the courage to ask.
He then turned and looked me straight in the eye; his expression was soft but reserved. His eyes, a dazzling blue, distracted me as he studied me. He nodded slightly in reply as he dropped his stare to the notebook in front of him, pushing it towards me and returning to his original state.

The page before me was decorated in neat, curled writing. I ran my eyes over the page; it was like staring at an old Diary. I shook my head, bringing myself out of my thoughts and copied out the notes. Nudging the book back, the bell rang. I began placing my stuff back into my bag; the boy next to me took his stuff, placing his bag on his back. He averted his eyes from me as people left the room, but began to speak. His voice took me by surprise; it was deep, yet smooth and almost hypnotic. But what he said surprised me even more.

“The school girl being infatuated with the new boy’s overdone. If it stops you staring you can show me round Nevada after school tomorrow, Autumn,” I stopped in my tracks when I heard the last bit.

“How do you know my name?” I asked before turning to my side, only to see he was no longer there. I looked to the door just as he turned the corner. I didn’t know his name, where he was from, or why he was here, but something about this boy made me so determined to find out.