Circled Distraction

July 16, 2008
By Sarah Rood, Grosse Ile, MI

She sits in her written on, grey desk in AP English, ignoring the comments of others, seemingly staring off into space. Her eyes wander, taking in the now familiar letters stenciled obscurely around the room, spelling out a message it took her four years to decode. Her eyes finally come to rest on the desk directly across the circle from her own. It’s not the desk that catches her attention; but rather who is sitting in the desk.

For three months now this has been her habit-admiring him from afar. She loves the way his hair is stylishly messy, and is constantly falling in his golden green eyes. She admires his tattoo-not gaudy but displaying his Irish heritage, and his piercings –both ears and labret-unique but strangely attractive. She catches herself staring and quickly averts her eyes before anyone notices.

She turns her attention back to the lecture, her mind still clouded with thoughts of him. She wonders what he thinks about her. It is then she realizes she has fallen, and fallen hard. The surprising break-up of four months earlier no longer tears her apart the way it used to. This was all part of her plan, a way to get over the pain of the break-up. She had decided she needed a distraction and he had fallen into the role perfectly.
Her daily habit has been altered-but only temporarily. The bold, black font of the question stands out against the crisp white paper lying obscurely on the desk in front of her. The room is silent, except for the sound of pencil scratches. Her test is still blank, her mind on things other than the answer. He’s distracting her, once again, his jacket falling over the back of his chair and resting on her feet. She’s most distracted by his smell- the sensual mix of smoke and cologne. She turns her attention back to the test, easily jotting down the answer.
Second Semester: A new start, new classes with new people. Or so she hoped. She settled into her desk, gazing around observing her “new” classmates. Then he walks in, nonchalantly, settling into a desk three away from her own. No, this can’t be happening. She wanted a new start, free from him and the mistakes of first semester.
Two months have passed. He is no longer in her class; having switched out the fourth day. Without him there as her distraction her mind is finally clear. Their only contact has been awkward passings in the hall and a run-in in the most unlikely of places-detention. She survives the hour in hell, feeling like a piece of meat in a lion cage only to realize he means nothing to her. That fact is confirmed when she sees him in the library three days later, sitting in his usual corner which she dubs the corner of faded dreams. That’s all he is to her: a faded dream, turned into a nightmare and forgotten about.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book