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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1172512-Unspoken
Rated: · Short Story · Young Adult · #1172512
You wouldn't know it if you saw her, but she was sitting there waiting....
Closing the door shut behind her, she walked out into the hallway and stood at a corner by the lockers, as she usually did at ten thirty in most of her mornings. She leaned against the wall, and looked around carelessly before spotting a vacant chair placed by a door and retreating to it without much urgency.

As she sat, she glanced around discreetly, not wanting to give away the fact that she was looking at anything in particular. She observed the people walking by nonchalantly, and they passed her without a thought to her being there. Her being there seemed just as purposeless to them as their walking by was to her.

Watching her sit there, you'd probably never guess that she was there, at ten thirty on most mornings, for a reason. Part of her knew exactly what she was doing there, the other part didn't want to know. And while the latter chose to pretend otherwise, she sat there, fully aware of her purpose.

She was waiting.

Anticipating.

And while she was trying hard not to give away her expectations, inside, she was convulsing with hope, and excitement, and anxiety.

She sat there, in her corner, glancing around occasionally, waiting for almost ten minutes before she gave up and left her seat. Pushing her way through the crowd of students in her way, she headed for the stairs, when suddenly, she heard what she'd been sitting in her corner, at ten thirty on most mornings, and waiting for.

The familiar shuffle of feet made its way up the stairs, and headed to the hallway. Her hallway. Her muscles clenched, and she stopped, paralyzed with excitement, and terror, as her heart followed the soft thumps of the shoes on the stairs with a resonance that echoed thunderously in her head.

He was coming her way. She was waiting.

And as she waited, immobile for that minute, she let her mind flood itself with a thousand thoughts.

Would He look at her? Would she look back? Would He say anything to her? What was she going to say to Him? Should she say anything at all? Would He respond? Did he even know who she was, or that she existed at all in the first place?

And then, there He was, heading directly towards her, the familiar shuffle, the distinct swagger to His walk, the unique slouch that she waited for, in her corner at ten thirty on most mornings.

She looked straight ahead, blinded by the light streaming through from the window behind him, seeing only a shadowy black mass heading towards her. But there He was, walking towards her in all His magnificence, amplified by the blinding glow from the light that illuminated the path behind Him. She had no need to see his face to recognize Him.

Bravely, and for the sake of masking the turbulence that was building up inside of her with His every step, she stepped forward, and began moving in His direction, summoning her being in its entirety to fuel her progress forward, as her heart pounded furiously in her chest.

He walked on, unsuspectingly, in a frenzied conversation with the guy beside Him, as she got closer and closer. The blinding luminescence faded away, revealing His face, and she struggled with herself desperately to hide the wide smile that threatened to burst through the intense joy that she suddenly felt in her soul and expose her.

Then, their proximity closed to two feet, she, despite her best efforts at ignorance and nonchalance, looked up and straight at His face.

And then He looked at her.

And for a moment, the world seemed to slow down, and every sound heard was reduced to the single, steady beat of her heart.

And she looked straight into His black, black eyes.

And for a moment, that single second of time, when their eyes met, everything stopped.

And as time froze over for that second, her heart still carried that same beat, and she felt the world spin slowly beneath her feet as the people making their way past them in the hallway slowly faded away until she was left with only herself and Him.

And all the thoughts in her head cleared. And her knees were weak. And her body felt light. And she felt light she might have died unknowingly.

And in just that one second, looking into His eyes, as she passed by, she felt pure joy. Joy indescribable. And she felt like the world was complete, and right.

And time continued in slow motion, until she passed by and her back reluctantly faced His. Then, suddenly, like a tidal wave of reality, the people in the hallways materialized, bringing with it the unbearable clutter of sound, and the world moved at its own pace once again.

She shuffled towards the stairs reluctantly, with a sense of such satisfaction that only she knew. In an impulse, she stopped, and looked back.

There He was, parked in her seat, still furiously chattering away to His friend. And she smiled to herself, as big a smile that her physical being could convey.
As though He could feel her smile directed to Him, He turned, looking her way. Then, she saw what she waited every ten thirty of most mornings for.

That familiar flicker of recognition in His eyes. That look, that told her that He saw her. That He'd seen her before, and that He'd be seeing her again. And He did not smile, nor did His face betray any emotion whatsoever towards her. But His eyes spoke to her, and she, only she, understood.

She returned His look with a look of her own. A knowing response, in a glance, that communicated the thousands of words that she wanted to say to Him, her face too, betraying nothing. He responded with an expression that made Him look almost compelled to speak to her, out loud. But He quickly digressed, and threw her a look of understanding, before resuming conversation with His friend.

She smiled quietly to herself with mild satisfaction,and turned her back, and made her way down. Content.
She would wait again, tomorrow.
© Copyright 2006 So Illiterate (soilliterate at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1172512-Unspoken