Kissing You That Friday Night

"I don't believe it..."
"What?" I lift my pencil off my graphite and eraser mark stained paper and look at Kat.
"I can't believe this." Kat looks wide eyed at a piece of paper.
I notice the curly writing of "Mr. Thomson" at the top of the paper under her name and know right away it's her history test.
"What'd you get?" I ask as I continue to sketch the white daisy only a few feet away from my favorite oak tree in our school courtyard.
"An A." She glares at me.
"Um, and this is shocking because...." I wave my hands in the air, awaiting her explanation.
"Minus." She looks away.
Oh god forbid, Kat Barton got an A....minus. Kat is by far the most studious person in Fairfield. She has not once got a grade lower than a B- on anything. I met her in 3rd grade, we've been bestfriends since. We were both kind of losers. Kat had the red frizzy hair and glasses and knew all the answers to everything in class, and I was always just, well, that loser art freak kid. Still am. Since then Kat has changed dramatically. Her frizzy red hair, now beautiful swirls and waves of fire red. Glasses be gone to show off her emerald green eyes. Plus she had the lanky, gorgeous body of a super model. She was almost cat like looking in a way, her eyes were larger than anyones I had ever seen before and she was quiet. Hense the nickname Kat. Her full name is Katherine.
"So? I got a B..." I started.
She looked at me expressionless.
"Minus." I smiled.
She giggled, "I hate you."
I smiled and looked back down at my sketch and began to shade the petals of the delicate flower with my pinky finger while Kat nibbled on a green apple.
"Ahem," I looked up int the bright shining light surrounding a small, thin girl. I squinted and used my hand as a sheild against the powerful sun.
"Hey Ingrid," I said. Ingrid was an art freak, like me, only she was very into the art clubs and events. I always worked alone. But Ingrid was cool, and I knew what she was going to ask.
"Are you going to the art show this Friday?" She asked me as she shuffled through her backpack looking for something.
"You know me."
"Yeah I figured you'd go," She replied as she yanked a green paper out of her back pack and handed it to me, "This is all the information, but I'm sure you already have all of it, but just in case."
"Thanks." I say as a take the paper from her and examine every little detail, though I knew about the art show from the get go, I just wanted to make sure I knew all the information.
"You should come." I say to Kat as Ingrid walks away.
"Why? I have to study, it's on a Friday and Friday's are Yoga days, study days, piano lesson days, and more studying days." She declares and looks at me as if I didn't know one plus one is two. She shakes her head and tisks at me.

I watched contently and indifferntly at his movements and played them in slow motion in my mind. The movement of his pencil gliding across the untouched white convas, his chapped yet perfect lips, the whisps of hair plastered to his flawless face... You would call this idealization, but no, it's more like admiration. Ricky Paul was more than what girls' of his social standing considered him. He was more than, dare I say, a beast. He was a work of art. There was not one thing that didn't hit me as striking about him, from his perfect midnight blue eyes and dark hair to the details like zitless face and tall stature. I believe I'm the only one who looks at Ricky and is breathless. I know how lame it must sound but it's true.
Suddenly, my daydream is corrupted.
"Um excuse me?" I look up slowly scanning all the elements of the one who slaughtered my moment with that question.
Oh god, it's fate!
I don't even speak, just stare. His long fingers are twirling a perfect white daisy infront of my face. Is he giving it to me? Does he like me!? I know how cliche this moment is, but I can't help but smile. This is what I've always wanted! Ricky Paul, in the flesh, speaking...flirting? With me!? Everything around me was a silent blur, motionless. No one else was there but him and I.
"You left this on the desk up front." He said. At that moment my smile faded as he put the daisy next to my sketch pad and walked away. Everything came back into clear veiw and was loud and chaotic again. I was suddenly hit with a burst of cool air and looked down at my sweating palms to notice how much I had perspired. That in itself could drive away even the nicest and dorkiest of guys.
"Ugh!" I exclaimed and slammed my head down onto the drawing table.
"Ah, unrequited love. What a sight." Tara said with her hands over her heart, flutering her eyelashes.
"Yeah, the only problem is the unrequited part. Why doesn't he notice me? I'm not that revolting...Am I?"
"No, darling. If I were a guy I would totally makeout with you. But seriously...Ricky? He isn't that perfect. I mean he's captian of the football team, and has like 5 cheerleader girlfriends. Plus he can't draw for the sake of his life.He's just here because all the 'pretty' girls' are in this class." She blurted out.
Okay so I might have lied, Ricky wasn't who I had described but the guy I want doesn't exist. Ricky is the closest thing to my ideal guy as it gets. Minus the drawing. And the zitless face, he has three. YES I COUNTED! Oh, and his eyes are hazel, not midnight blue. Okay so he's nothing like my ideal guy, but I liked him. It's funny how attraction works. You end up crushing on the person you would be least likely expect to crush upon.
I didn't have a response to what Tara had said. But what Tara said about Ricky was true. But then again, Tara is the most independent young lady on the face of the earth. No way and no how will any guy play with her mind. What Tara had said still changed nothing. I had feelings for Ricky.