Velvet Pencils
Chapter 2
Monday.
Everyone says they hate it, but most people don’t really think much of it. Just another day of school, work, or play. It’s not a bad day, actually for me it’s my favorite. It starts a fresh week, a new week where you can forget everything that happened and focus on what is going to happen. It’s my favorite day of the week.
Mostly because I have Math first period.
Striding down the hallway I heard a few stray giggles at my florescent purple jeans and yellow t-shirt. I’ve gotten used to the snickers of the very few souls that can’t get used to my brightness. I didn’t see what was so funny, is me being a male and liking colors that amusing?
I walked into Math class and sat in my usual seat, in the back right corner. There, I could watch Cyle, who sat in the back left corner, out of the corner of my eye. Or if I put my head down, I could stare at home completely without him knowing. I’ve thought this over many times
As usual, Cyle shuffled in two minutes before the bell rung and sat in his seat. He never did anything but shuffle. His feet barley left the floor, his back was always hunched, and he was constantly looking at the floor. Just like the day I first saw him.
As he sat, he ruffled through his black book bag to look for one of his special pencils. This was also a part of the routine. He dug into and shook the bag and I thought, maybe this could be the day. Maybe, today he would have finally forgotten his pencil and he would have to ask me for one. Another thing that has crossed my mind more than once.
I watched him as he searched and searched, and was almost ready to jump up and give him one myself, but then he pulls a lint covered pencil out of the bottom and smiles in relief. Black and velvet, just how he likes them.
The rest of the class goes by quickly as I stare at him, admire him. My heart swelled when I saw him squint at the board when he couldn’t see a question, I giggled when his tongue poked out when he concentrated on an equation, I yearned to touch his hair when he hunched over and it brushed softly against the desk. But then the bell rung, and Cyle packed up his stuff. He was the first one out of the classroom.
I packed up my things as well, and left right after him. An empty feeling erupted in my chest as I trudged to my history class, and I knew it wouldn’t go away until I saw him again In English. It never does.
Everyone says they hate it, but most people don’t really think much of it. Just another day of school, work, or play. It’s not a bad day, actually for me it’s my favorite. It starts a fresh week, a new week where you can forget everything that happened and focus on what is going to happen. It’s my favorite day of the week.
Mostly because I have Math first period.
Striding down the hallway I heard a few stray giggles at my florescent purple jeans and yellow t-shirt. I’ve gotten used to the snickers of the very few souls that can’t get used to my brightness. I didn’t see what was so funny, is me being a male and liking colors that amusing?
I walked into Math class and sat in my usual seat, in the back right corner. There, I could watch Cyle, who sat in the back left corner, out of the corner of my eye. Or if I put my head down, I could stare at home completely without him knowing. I’ve thought this over many times
As usual, Cyle shuffled in two minutes before the bell rung and sat in his seat. He never did anything but shuffle. His feet barley left the floor, his back was always hunched, and he was constantly looking at the floor. Just like the day I first saw him.
As he sat, he ruffled through his black book bag to look for one of his special pencils. This was also a part of the routine. He dug into and shook the bag and I thought, maybe this could be the day. Maybe, today he would have finally forgotten his pencil and he would have to ask me for one. Another thing that has crossed my mind more than once.
I watched him as he searched and searched, and was almost ready to jump up and give him one myself, but then he pulls a lint covered pencil out of the bottom and smiles in relief. Black and velvet, just how he likes them.
The rest of the class goes by quickly as I stare at him, admire him. My heart swelled when I saw him squint at the board when he couldn’t see a question, I giggled when his tongue poked out when he concentrated on an equation, I yearned to touch his hair when he hunched over and it brushed softly against the desk. But then the bell rung, and Cyle packed up his stuff. He was the first one out of the classroom.
I packed up my things as well, and left right after him. An empty feeling erupted in my chest as I trudged to my history class, and I knew it wouldn’t go away until I saw him again In English. It never does.
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Sorry its short and crappy. I lost a subber so I thought some of you would like another chapter. =/ comments? (though don't really expect any, it's just a filler.)