Ageless Beauty

I had known Christian De Luca basically all my life. From before I was born, to when I turned about nine or ten, he'd come to my house after school and my Mother would watch him until his Mother came to pick him up before dinner. Our Mothers had been really good friends at the time, and for that reason, we had seen a lot of each other. Whether it be scheduled play dates, or being dragged over to the others house so our Mothers could have tea, we had grown used to each other over the years.

But then something happened to his Mother. I believe it was a nervous breakdown, but he never spoke to me about the matter. I had always knew Mrs. De Luca was a little bit off, but not quite enough to pack up all her things and flee the country without so much as a goodbye to her only son. After that, I barely saw him, besides in the halls or playground at school. He had moved across town to live with his Father who worked at home, so Christian didn't need a babysitter anymore. He and I never had the same group of friends, and I was two years younger, so he never so much as blinked in my direction for the entirety of his elementary school years. I had always wanted to confront him, and perhaps talk to him about what had happened to Mrs. De Luca, but my Mother told me it wasn't the best idea. He needed time to heal.

So, I let him heal. I had never spoken to him about what had happened, in fact, I didn't speak to him at all. He was off to high school by the time I was in the seventh grade, so I had forgotten about him completely. He was but a small, merely slightly significant memory of my past, and I did not want to dwell on the lost friendship any longer. Instead, I focused more so on my school work. I wasn't like the other kids in my grade. They were all discovering new things like make-up, kissing, alcohol, and, for some, dirty magazines, but I discovered things like books and movies and discovery channel. I suppose I was just fascinated by the world around me, or perhaps I just used that as a distraction from the fact that it seemed like I was the odd one out. I didn't want to get involved in those things that the other kids were doing. It was like they were all growing up, and I was staying the same, and it felt lonely.

So, I filled the void of my former friends with Shark Week and Maureen Johnson. Sure, I didn't want to completely isolate myself from other people, but I didn't want to be exposed to what they were doing either. It seemed like only yesterday that we had been playing with dolls in the sandbox, and now they couldn't go a weekend without breaking into their parents alcohol cabinet and getting drunk with their friends. So, I stayed away from them, and we eventually grew apart. It was to the point where we didn't even say hi to each other in the halls, and though that made me sad, I'm actually kind of happy it happened too. I now had the time to really get to know my sister; on a real, personal level. I didn't know her as my kid sister anymore, I knew her as the Sarah that everybody else knew. I got to know her as a friend. A best friend.

I also got the chance to get close with my Mom. Until my Father had died, back when I was eight years old, I had always been a Daddy's girl. Sure, I loved my Mother, but I never showed her the same adoration that I showed my Dad. I never got to know her the same way that I got to know him, so I was finally able to change that. I spent more time with her, went out on lunch dates and went shopping together. Seventh and eighth grade, for me, really brought us three girls together. And that meant a lot to me.

I didn't even care that by the time I reached high school, I didn't really have any friends. I realized that I didn't need to have people to talk to, or people to sit with at lunch. I could focus on my school work, and then go home to my two favourite people. I didn't need to be like all the other girls; stupid, slutty and completely superficial. I didn't feel the need to make myself up every morning so that boys would find me attractive. I didn't need attention, or other people's approval. I was just me, and I was okay with it.

I was okay with it until I saw him walk down the hall. He had changed so much in the past two years that it was almost alarming. His hair was so much darker, and his skin was so much more tanned. He had muscles now, too. I could see them through the thin material of the Grey T-shirt that hugged his chest and abdomen. His eyes had stayed the same though, which I was thankful for, because that was always the thing I liked best about him.

They were mostly green, with an odd shade of amber around the pupil and a dark, blue ring around the iris. The were lined with two rows of thick, dark lashes that made even most girls envy him. And when those wonderfully familiar eyes met mine, I swear that I could feel my heart pounding against the inside of my ribcage. I bit down on my lip as the colour in my cheeks reddened, unsure of whether or not I should look away.

But I didn't, and he didn't either. He sent me a small smile, watching me until he was too far away to look back at me anymore before turning back to his friend. After that, I let out a long, shaky breath that I hadn't realized I had been holding, and looked up at the people around me. None of them were paying any attention to me, which was what was to be expected. So, I turned back to my locker and spun the combination that was written on my wrist into the lock.