The Classroom

I was sitting in the lab chair, nervous for the first day of school. When he walked in, my eyes immediately lay eyes on him. He was extraordinarily good-looking; I couldn't hold back my stare. He had something special about the way he walked, the clothes he wore. I could hear him faintly making jokes and laughing. He was so charismatic. He was charming. Right away I knew I would admire him for the rest of the school year; however, I couldn't tell how far the admiration would go. And then he spoke in a loud voice, and everyone turned their heads towards him.

"Okay, class, let's get started."

____

I couldn't help myself from staring in class today. I didn't want it to be obvious. But the way he stood when writing notes on the board was so beautiful, so dominant, so handsome. The way his white shirt tucked into his black pants and his red tie dangled from his neck, the way he took occasional sips of his coffee as everyone was copying down notes, the way his muscles could be seen through his shirt, was so alluring.

And while looking at his body I became sad.

Sad that I will never look like that.

And I just looked down in my notebook, doodling circles in the corner until the period ended.

____

It's been a few weeks and he has talked to me once. When it happened, I saw him coming over to my desk and immediately got butterflies in my stomach. He asked me what book I was reading. My words were jumbled, and I really hope my face wasn't red, because I could feel it growing hot. And while I was looking into his eyes, I thought it. I couldn't help it; I'm a teenager, what do you expect? I thought about what it would be like to touch his chest or run my hands through his hair. I wondered what his lips would feel like if I touched them. I thought of some other things. And when he left, all I could do was smile. When he left, I felt his divine presence leaving me, and felt cold from his absence.