For a while, it had worked. I had worried about how to avoid you if we had shared any other classes, scheming quick plans while Chaelin dragged me around, giving me a tour of the college grounds. None of these ill-plotted schemes were in the slightest bit helpful thus my undeniable glee and relief when I had found out that I need not worry about it. It seemed luck was on my side. The one class we had shared was soon declared no longer compulsory to attend - unofficially, but when the entire class does not show up, what can a teacher do? 

That, however, did not mean we didn't run into each other around the college. I had prepared myself for this. If such an occasion should ever arise, I would simply nod and continue doing the task I had been occupied with beforehand. That way, a little of the guilt that had recently occupied a small part of my head would not seem so bad.

But it seemed, on such occasions, I found myself staring back. For hopes that you would approach me and start a conversation? No. Definitely not. But simply to observe you, to see where you fit into the social hierarchy of this school, what part you contributes to the society chained within these grounds for 6 hours a day. I couldn’t deny that you had piqued my interest. From one look, anyone could tell that you were a social butterfly.

I had remembered when I told you this. Your reaction priceless as you threw a tantrum, doubting my intelligence for the inability to describe you with a metaphor that did not make you seem so girly. I had simply laughed but looking back over it, it was not the lack of intelligence or words. The way you flitted about between different people, different groups with that smile plastered on your face, with such ease simply conjured up such an image.

Chaelin had concluded this new behaviour of mine was infatuation. To which, I quickly denied, justifying it as some hobby to fill the time while she bounced around talking to her new found friends.

“Well they don’t mind talking to you, you know.”

“I know, but I don’t mind time to myself either,” I replied. And it was true. I had grown used to solitude to the point where I would shut myself in my room for days if I had felt like I had enough of everyone. Of course, I wasn’t always like that. I used to love being alongside Chaelin, making friendly conversation with whoever occupied the other seats of the canteen table.

But people change, and I had found that I was caving in on myself, speaking less and caring less for those around me and craving the moment when I would reach my room, drop my pretensions and shut the world out.

Trust. You can’t trust people.

That’s why, as I leaned back while Chaelin did her thing, I let my eyes wander over to you justifying it with distrust. Not that I distrust you per say, I barely knew you. It was the idea of your persona, how bad can one so happy and outgoing ever be?

When I had tried to communicate some of these thoughts to Chaelin, she simple arched her brow with a look of scepticism plastered all over her face as she said, “No, you’re not infatuated with him at all.”

My faced must have been ready to protest, to which she threw her hands up and said, “Whatever, dude. If it makes you happy, I mean he looks like he could potentially be a player.”

I wasn’t sure if that was what I meant but it seemed good enough for now. We were on our way out of the canteen and I glanced at him, while she carried on, “In which case, I’d stop staring. You wouldn’t want to get caught looking.”

 Too late.

I whipped head around, the force of my hair sent Chaelin stumbling backwards almost spilling her coffee.

“Eye contact,” I told her as she regained composure. She snapped her head up glaring at me.

“What? Dude, what did I just say?”

“I know, and you were right. I admit it, your highness. So can we leave?” I could feel two holes burning into the back of my head and suddenly it felt like the canteen could not have been emptier.

 After countless apologies and promising to buy snacks on the way home, Chaelin had decided to start walking again. And as I rushed her out the canteen door, I couldn’t but help steal a quick glance towards you.

A quick, short one.

But long enough to burn the image of your smirk beneath my eyelids.