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Your Eyes

That first day, so simple, we saw each other across the room. I thought, "Jock" and dismissed you to talk to my usual crowd. But as I talked to b****es with inch thick make-up and felt fat and ugly and under dressed, my usual reaction to my friends, I felt your eyes on me again. I ignored them.

The second day, too short, I saw you again in a crowd. I did not recognize a single other face, and yours was blatantly familiar. I walked over. I forced myself to look up, directly into your eyes, when I said hello, because someone told me once I was to timid with my first impressions. I was not surprised that they were beautiful. You said hi, had an almost stunned look on your face. I could tell you thought I was pretty. I thought you were not my type. As you talked, I watched your eyes change colors. They grew on me, shifting in the light. You talked about baseball and friends, and I talked about art and writing, but I couldn't really pay attention.You were too unusual. You were a boy with a leopard's eyes.

The third day, unexpected, came with a party. Or, really, two parties colliding. Your friends egged my house and we ran out in our PJs to laugh, spraying you with half empty beer cans and shaving cream. It was the first time you hugged me without a bra on. You rather obviously enjoyed it. You needed better shorts. You sprayed the shaving cream down my shirt, and I unabashedly scooped it out and gave you a mustache. I couldn’t help but notice, your eyes were green in the night.

Number four, timid, we went out to a movie. You had gone out with plenty of girls before, you said, but I had trouble believing it. You were too shy. You must have been tipsy the last time I’d seen you. I didn’t mind. Also, you picked a slow movie about a contagious disease. Noy exactly mood-setting. Unsurprisingly, we did not kiss. I could tell you were disappointed. It was your own fault. I told you, and when you laughed your eyes were tawny butterscotch.

The fifth, a miracle, was on a school holiday. My sister had driven me to the mall, and you were sitting by the fountain as I walked in. We’d been trying to coordinate but it wasn’t how either of us worked. We seemed rather destined to meet again, and with this to fall back on we were both to lazy to organize. We kissed outside of the giant Macy’s and a saleslady gave you a look as your hands traveled. I made sure this time you had my number. Your eyes, as I was now accustomed to, had changed again to a light hazel.

The sixth, gentle, I saw you outside my school. You were waiting, you said, because something didn’t feel right, I didn’t sound like myself. You noted my smeared mascara and red nose, which you found adorable but I found quite ugly, and concluded that you were quite right to come. I wasted no time in planting my face into your shoulder and messing up your sweatshirt. You asked me why I was crying and I tearfully admonished blame on my rotten parents and school stress, and a friend calling me fat. You didn’t say anything at first, just circled my waist with you hands, and showed me the inch between your thumbs. My friend, you decided, was insane. I told you your hands were big, grumpily, but I couldn't help but smile and kiss each one. You teasingly mentioned your lips were getting jealous, so I soundly kissed them too. I closed my eyes but right before I did, I saw your eyes were deep, concerned chocolate.

Seven, soft, you invited me over. I dressed as conservatively as I could, without cheating you of at least some pleasure, so that your mother would approve. My baggy tee and fitted jeans were not necessary, though, because when I came I discovered that your parents were not home. I wondered if this meant anything, until I saw the movies set out by your TV, The Corpse Bride and UP. They were, somehow, my two favorite movies. I jokingly asked you to marry me. You looked straight into my eyes and said, I do. Your eyes were dark green.

The eighth, loud, I came to one of your games. The crowd was engulfing, and I could not find you before the game. I was scared among people I didn’t know, but sitting high in the stands I could see you pitch and hit and run, and admire your fluid muscles. You were at home in the field, and I found myself swept into the tension by your expression. I wanted to run out and join you, but that was silly and I didn’t. I did, however, bear hug you the moment the game ended and you got out. Your eyes were triumphant, brown-streaked sunflowers.

Nine, perfect, we went to a park. It was right next to my old middle school, and all throughout eight grade I’d fantasized about one ivy covered bench. It was neoclassical iron work, just a bit too small for two, so I’d have to sit on you a bit. I hoped you didn’t mind. I’d always thought it was perfect, and it had a sort of hallowed spot in my mind. I’d never taken a boyfriend there though. I didn’t tell you about it, afraid you would laugh. Your eyes found it instantly, even though it was in the back, and you suggested we sit there. I curled up in your lap, and the next kisses were the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I told you, for the first time, that I loved you. Your eyes caught the sunlight through the leaves and were mottled green and joy-filled.

The tenth, all too short, we went swimming. You said fall was too cold, but I told you I was in denial and in my head it was still summer. As usual, you were right, and as I got out, shivering, you found my towel, then wrapped us both like a taco inside. Your hands warmed my body and your lips turned mine from blue to purple to their regular pink. I spiked your wet hair into a faux hawk and you modeled it. I laughed until I couldn't breathe and simply shook. I’d never been this comfortable with anyone. You found our bikes and I biked back in shorts and my bikini top. From the way you looked at me, I was a super model, the smartest girl in the world, and a world-class comedian. We both glowed. Your eyes were butterscotch.

The last time I saw you was in a red and white van. I sat beside you and I held your fingers, clumsily making them fit in mine the way they did on their own so naturally. I’d told you not to come see me in the rain, bikers were hard to spot in the blur, but you said you couldn't stay away. I cried like I’ve never cried before, and when I finally managed to look at them, once they’d gotten you into the hospital and onto the cold, white bed, with the machine flat lining despite desperate attempts, your eyes were closed.

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This article has 8 comments. Post your own now!

applesauceHater said...
Mar. 11, 2012 at 12:33 am
im very jealous. this is just another amazing piece by you. theres soemthing about your writing which is different than most i've read. Its high quality/ the way you write is just so good. its how you write it. i had the word but then lost it after i finished the story(sorry). I've read this one and 3 oclock angst a couple times to try to learn from you. this is another 5/5 piece. please continue writing. you're really great!
LadyJaneGrey This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Mar. 5, 2012 at 7:08 pm
That was really interesting. When I realized that you were counting the number of times the narrator saw his eyes, I thought, "Oooh, no, something bad will happen!" And . . . it did, but you did it really well. Your descriptions were fantastic, and I thought your focus on the eyes was a great choice. Awesome job and keep writing! 
PerttlesAreMe said...
Nov. 30, 2011 at 7:30 pm
Loved It!!
Nicole620 replied...
Mar. 5, 2012 at 4:30 pm
I really enjoyed the thought of changing eye color of the boyfriend, it helped set the mood of the piece. And that ending! Man, you left me wondering if he survived or not. I guess that's up to the reader to decide. :) Great job!
swifthearth said...
Nov. 30, 2011 at 7:28 pm
CautionwetPaint said...
Nov. 24, 2011 at 6:08 pm
I really like it! i'm glad the ending wasn't cheesy. It kept my interested the whole time. Keep writing! :)
IamtheshyStargirl said...
Oct. 29, 2011 at 1:01 pm
I agree with EarthenNightmare :)
EarthenNightmare said...
Oct. 22, 2011 at 2:29 pm
Beautiful. Seriously beautiful.
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