*A/N* So, this one is very personal to me. I hope it doesn't seem too sappy.........
Did I see something in there? Or was that just me? He was good looking, but not like a crazy, movie star gorgeous if you know what I mean. His eyes were what always got me. I might have been able to have a fairly normal conversation if I didn’t have to carefully avert them. They were blue, the truest blue I had ever seen, and they sparkled every time he smiled.
He was older than me, but only by a few years—which of course makes all the difference when you’re a minor. I was fourteen and he was somewhere around nineteen or twenty, I think. He had the same last name as me, only spelled differently. Welsky instead of Welskiy. He said that his was spelled the normal way, and I laughed and said no, mine was more exciting. Sometimes when I was in the coffee shop I glanced over and there was that awkward eye contact that people get when you’re watching them. I couldn’t tell who was looking first, him or me. I hoped it was him.
Sometimes I wondered if what I saw in those blue eyes was him wanting me, or me wanting him to want me. Whatever it was, I always looked away because I felt something that I wasn’t sure about. Tension? Intensity? I still can’t find the word for it.
I always said things that made me sound stupid or shy—which I’m not stupid and definitely not shy—but around him my stomach tightened up and danced until I was shaking and looked clumsy too. The most annoying thing about it is that normally I wouldn’t care, but around him I felt my face heating up, which knowing that my face was heating up made it heat up even more.
He always gave me crap about having more money than him, and laughed (his eyes sparkled and didn’t leave mine, no matter how hard I tried to avert them) every time I pulled out my wad of cash. He asked if we could trade jobs and I just laughed and told him that I would drink all the coffee.
He paid special attention to everything I needed. He knew what I was ordering even though I only went there like once a week. He snuck on extra cream and sometimes gave me a medium instead of a small, winking at me when he handed it over. He could have done that for everybody. I never found out, but I selfishly like to think that it was especially for me.
It’s all really stupid, actually, and I knew that nothing would ever happen, but I wanted more than anything for him to look straight at me with those blue eyes and say that I was right, he liked me a lot, he thought I was beautiful and he wanted to be with me. I wanted him to ask me to go to sit down, so we could talk a little and sit in an easier silence, not the tight-stomached kind. I wanted him to look at me with those true blue eyes and know that he liked me too, that maybe I made his stomach dance and his hands shake a little.
That never happened, but I sure do wish it had. I’m sure it’s just raging teenage hormones, but it was something unfamiliar to me, something that made me uneasy. Sometimes I wonder, if he hadn’t just been the boy at the register, would something have happened?
Probably not, but I was thinking about him the other day and needed to write it down. I’m sure I’ll see him again one of these days, but I just wonder if I’ll feel the same.
I guess we’ll have to see.