A pair of eyes darted across the room and latched on to my own. Her face was pristine and slightly angular, and altogether very pretty as was evident by the fact that she was surrounded by a group of guys at least five years her senior all with nearly-empty glass beer bottles fixed in their palms. I looked away to a barren wall but I could still feel her attempt to make eye contact but my eyes refocused my attention to a large white feather that she had braided into her hair. When my eyes flicked back, they met hers. Her brown pupils locked with mine for and unusually long amount of time, as if she were trying to tell me something. We held this unspoken conversation until I released and looked down at my lit cigarette, with it’s orange end glowing against the dark and seemingly unattached surrounding world. I took another drag, and turned around leaving the girl, and the party that surrounded her. I could feel the grass blades reaching through the slits of my sandals and tracing the outside of my skin, and finally the crunch of gravel as I made the transition from yard to street. The surrounding air held moisture, and was heavy as it sunk into my lungs, lifting the cigarette smoke with it. I pulled the tails of my flannel shirt across my stomach and chest and crossed my arms, and as I looked downward at the tiny stones which lined the road-top as I made my way down the street.