the look

Sally was accompanied by a couple of her regularly energetic but now bored friends that rainy afternoon. They circled the school aimlessly for what felt like hours, walking through the same halls over and over again in the slight hope that something would just appear and amuse them for the duration of this horribly placed spare. As usual, there was nothing to do that was in the least bit interesting. This didn’t bother Sally so much, since just the act of walking while talking was enough to entertain her, at least for a little while. Besides, she never got bored easily when she had something on her mind. Her thoughts kept her occupied more than anything else in this school could. The only problem that Sally had was that conversation with her friends was not carrying on so well. At this very moment, she was asking herself over and over how it came to be that she was friends with people who didn’t know who Tim Burton was. Being the only film buff she knew sometimes took its toll on poor Sally.
         “Let’s go down this hall,” one of Sally’s friends suggested, bumping her slightly in the hip in the direction of the only corridor in the building that Sally was almost afraid to go down.
         Through the entire period, Sally had almost not realised that she’d been avoiding this hallway. It was an automatic action for her now. If she knew where Jack was, then she would not go there. She hadn’t even seen the boy that day, yet she knew that he was sitting comfortably on the wooden bench in that hallway, growing more and more dizzy with every moment that he spent on his highly placed pedestal.
         Sally went along with her friends down the dreaded hallway, aiming to be strong against the gloomy and sickening feelings that came along with the sight of him.
         As always, she was right about dear Jack’s location. There he sat with a smug grin, his arms spread out confidently over the top of the yellowish-brown wooden bench as if claiming the entire thing as his own. Of course, he would have to be wearing that sweater Sally liked so much on him. The sweater told her that every time he put it on, he had the intention of wearing it in front of her.
         In her mind, Sally shook her head to rid it of silly thoughts. She didn’t mean enough to him for the intentions to cause emotional harm, not anymore. If these silly thoughts were so, then it proved that he was as childish as she’d always thought he was.
         Next to him, just beyond his bench-claiming arm span sat Aldon, who was slouched down tiredly, wishing that he were anywhere but here. Jack was annoying the hell out of him today and for the first time within the length of his memory, Aldon wished that he could be in class instead of sitting here next to a kid who would just not shut up.
         Sally couldn’t help it when her eyes fell onto Aldon, beholding his aged, yet boyish beauty as she and her friends ventured closer and closer on their mission to the end of the hall. When it came to Jack, she felt as though she could not get out of there soon enough. Just the thought of him even glancing at her made her physically ill with thoughts of what could possibly be on his mind in perceiving her. But, when it came to the other guy on the bench, Sally almost wished for time to stop so that she could stay in his view for just a little while longer. With only a second more of Sally in Aldon’s sights, he might be able to see her in a different light, in a light that made her desirable in a way that she felt wasn’t possible. He was too good for her, too cute, too smart. She was just a chubby girl walking by, the very same chubby girl that Jack could tell humiliating stories about had he chosen to.
         But when she found Aldon’s bluish green eyes staring back at her, Sally could almost feel the light shining on her change. Time didn’t exactly stop, but it did slow down. The idea of time slowing was rather clichéd in Sally’s opinion, but sure enough, the cliché was becoming reality.
         There was almost a smirk at the side of his mouth as Aldon caught Sally’s gaze. Why was she staring at him? For a fragment of a second, he was overwhelmed with concern and even fear before these feelings were replaced by a giddy high that came along with the sight that she had a bit of a grin as well peaking out from her pouty, always-too-serious lips.
         It was as though they were old friends, sharing in a casual glance filled with memories of old times and the connections that they had experienced over the years. The shared smirks were like a symbol of an old, shared joke that was still thought humorous.
         Sally’s hair was flicked over her shoulder chicly as if she were a movie star. Her walk was filled with confidence and grace. With his eyes on her, she was suddenly unaware of her body. Such nonsense didn’t matter anymore. It was her that he was beholding, not her imperfect torso, not her somewhat frizzy hair, not the smudged makeup around her eyes. None of it mattered. She was just Sally.
         Aldon snapped out of his trance and returned to harsh reality when one of Sally’s friends walked right through their moment. They were no longer old friends, but mere acquaintances that had not even engaged in a full conversation in the duration of knowing one another. Before he knew it, time was sped up again, and Sally had turned the corner to venture into another hall. His hallway seemed somewhat darker now in her absence.
         “I hate her,” Jack said almost under his breath. “Isn’t she annoying?”
         Aldon shrugged, staring at the empty corner that had swallowed the girl up only seconds before. “She’s not that bad.”