My Hayley

It was the first day of my junior year when I first saw her. She was unlike anyone I had ever seen before; beautiful- the complete opposite of me. The way she walked was so fluid and graceful, lightly swaying her lovely hips from side to side, arms swimming through the air, head held up yet slightly drooping to reveal an underlying insecurity. Was it love at first sight? I’ve never believed in such irrationality, but this was as close as I had ever been. It was immediate attraction, at least, and the spark I had felt on that first day continued to grow each day after.

Her name was Hayley, and she had the most amazing singing voice. She was five-foot-two with pale skin and livid red hair. When she spoke, her tiny voice dripped with excitement, as if whatever she had to say related to the importance in the world which we all crave. Her pretty hazel eyes glittered with surplus moisture, produced by a smile, and cute little wrinkles poked out from the corners of the lids. When she laughed, her entire face scrunched up a bit, and her bangs fell over her eyes.

Skinny jeans, band tees, and oversized sunglasses. Cherry flavored chapstick, bubblegum nails, eyeliner swept along the lash line. Cheerful as can be. Hayley Williams.

Friendly, yes, but different. So wonderfully different. Sweet even to those she obviously couldn’t stand. A diplomat, waging wars against everybody and yet still holding her composure. Loved to be loved. And that was exactly what I wanted to do. I’d give anything to be her lover.

Problem was, I couldn’t talk to her. She made my hands shaky and my brain jumble up.

I sat in my second period class. Chin in hand, elbow on desk, eyes out the window, and mind on anything except what the teacher was droning on about. Hayley sat one row to the right, four seats up. She tapped her fingers absentmindedly, and I wondered what she was thinking about. Probably Zack, the kid in front of her who shared his pencils and made her giggle. I admit, he was cute – for a guy, that is.

Forcing my eyes on the chalkboard, I decided to stop watching her. It was self-torture to look at what I needed so much but could never have. Not that it mattered much. Her image never left my mind, an indelible etching in my thoughts.

As class ended, a notebook fell near me and I instinctively picked it up. It was pink with black and blue hearts drawn on the front, carelessly perfect, and it smelled sweet, like perfume I recognized. Hayley took it gently from my hands and smiled a warm thank you. My heart stopped, right then and there.

The next class I had with her was fifth. She was my lab partner, which made me both incredibly happy and implausibly nervous.

“Hand me that pencil?” she asked innocently. Her eyes were strained, focusing on the complicated directions, and she failed to see that the pencil was on her right while I sat meekly on her left. I couldn’t just ignore her, because she would think I didn’t like her, which obviously couldn’t be farther from the truth. I couldn’t just reach over her, because I might touch her, and then she would think I’m hitting on her, and she obviously wasn’t interested. My thoughts were spinning and the tension built up in my stomach as if this decision would be the most important I could ever make. She looked up at me with an eyebrow raised. “You okay?”

I managed a tiny nod.

She didn’t buy it for a second, but she spared me any further embarrassment by picking up the pencil herself and focusing intently on the lab.

My heart sank when the bell rang. Hayley hadn’t looked at me, even once, for the remainder of the lab. We worked in silence. As a matter of fact, we seemed to avoid each other for the rest of the day. We were casual acquaintances at best, so I couldn’t truly expect more than the few words she spoke to me. It didn’t matter that those words normally consisted of “hello” and “see you later”.