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A boy is
sitting on the seat directly opposite to yours. Clearly bored, he is
looking at the signs stuck on the walls. Then he turns and looks at
you. You both stare at each other, waiting to see who will be the
first to break the eye contact. Because you don’t know who he is,
and staring like this isn’t what you normally do, you look away.
Your
eyes rise and he’s still looking at you. Is it something about your
face? Is he taking pleasure in admiring your face’s beauty? Or is he
amused by its plainness? You have no idea. He breaks eye contact and
looks away, a small rise at the corners of his lips. Is that a
blush?
Your
mind gets lost in your boring daily stuff - work, home, groceries,
bills. Life hasn’t been very easy lately. Then you realize that he
is looking at you again. Usually you would look away, like you did
the first time. But you don’t. You have no idea why. You simply look
at him. He looks to be around seventeen, two years younger than you.
He has no acne. Lucky him. But he has a dark spot above his right
eye, near his eyebrow.
You ask
yourself if he’s going to talk to you. You hope not. You don’t like
talking to strangers. Yet, you would like to know more about this
boy you have been staring at for several minutes. Are you going to
start a conversation? No.
His
phone rings. He takes the call.
You
watch as his expression changes. First he looks happy. It must be
someone he likes. Then thoughtful. Perhaps he has been asked a
question. A few words are exchanged and he puts the mobile back in
his pocket. Was it a friend? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?
He
continues staring at you.
You
wonder things about him. Is he heading home from school? Perhaps to
a part-time job? Or to a friend’s place? What type of guy is he? The
popular jock? The class clown? Or the one who answers each of the
teacher’s questions?
The bus
comes to a stop. It’s his stop. He gets up. As he leaves the bus he
turns, looks directly at you, and gives you one last smile.
Thanks to Marty for his help
You
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