Racing Heart

December 8, 2010
"Repeat after me class, la boucherie," said Madame Antoinette as she dragged the worn-out yellow chalk against the squeaky surface of the board. The class repeated her voice in monotone, some just mouthing the words to make it seem like they were actually participating. I stared off into the distance at Melanie Wardruf. Her honey-colored curls cascaded down her slim, narrow shoulders, as she slipped a purple colored post-it note into the grasp of her friend's hand.
I felt a playful nudge as I turned around to find my best friend smirking at me.
"Dude, you've been staring at her for the past 15 minutes. Just ask her out, what are you so scared of?"
"Rejection," I muttered to myself.
I turned my attention back to the French teacher. Her two sizes too small brown sweater accentuated the flabs on her stomach. Her tight fitting white skirt revealed her purple laced bloomers. She reminded me of a toad - oversized lips, bulgy eyes and murky, brown limp hair.
"Class is over," she said at last. "Au revoir!"
I slung my worn blue bookbag over my right shoulder as I struggled to catch up with Melanie, reciting in my head a casual way to ask her out.
"Hey," I said shyly, smiling down at her.
"Hi Lukas," she chirped, returning my smile with an even warmer one of her own. Tiny beads of sweat formed along the sides of my forehead as I attempted to think of something interesting to say. I longed to tell her how beautiful I thought her brilliant blue eyes were, how I never forgot that time we held hands in elementary school and how my heart would beat faster just thinking of her.
"See you later Lukas," she said, interrupting my thoughts. "I'm heading off to math class now."
Flustered, I said goodbye as I watched the door close. She disappeared inside the room and so did my chance of asking her out.





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