I would like to thank Toxic, my wonderful teacher, for helping me with this. If there are any typos, that's because of the stupid blue bar. When I first saw her, I was speechless. "Class, welcome our new student. Diane Lynch." I scratched down a few more lines to my almost completed tiger. It had taken me days, but I finally got it. A snarling tiger. Ready to leap off the page in search of fresh prey, with its razor sharp claws and long fangs. "…came here from California, and I hope you all welcome her." Oh right. There was a new girl. I absentmindedly looked up. Diane tossed her glossy, golden hair, blinking her long lashes over a pair of sapphire eyes. Her clothes screamed California. An embellished tank top and jean shorts that fit her curves perfectly. I watched her dumbly as she slid into the seat next to me and smiled dazzlingly at me. My drawings quickly turned to her. My tiger, the one I had been determined to get right, lay forgotten on my shelf. Every day, I would sketch her perfect face. Trying to get it right. So I could remember her forever. I always watched her from a distance. I fell in love with her outgoing personality, her kindness, her beauty. I felt like I already knew everything about her. Her favorite song. Her favorite color. What foods she liked to eat. What her hobbies were. I no longer payed attention to anyone else. To them, I was numb. I no longer listened. I only had eyes for her. Every class I had with her, I wouldn't pay attention. I would stare at her. Trying to memorize her flawless features. If she dropped her pencil, I was there to pick it up. If she needed more paper, I was already there at her desk with it. I would wait outside her classroom for another glimpse. Every day when I walked to school, I took a detour by her house. Hoping to see her and talk to her. Hoping for her to see me the way I did. My grades fell. My parents thought I was doing drugs. Or I had fallen into depression. But it was the happiest time of my life. My friends became concerned. They would constantly try to talk to me. But I took no notice of them. My thoughts were too preoccupied with her. I had fallen deeply into the abyss of love. And I was never coming back out. I was a wimp. I could barely talk around her, let alone bring myself to ask her out. So I waited. For what? Unless I acted, she would be taken. But still I waited. For the perfect moment. Finally, my chance came. After months of waiting. "Goodbye!" Diane slammed the door behind her. I looked up from where I was trudging down the sidewalk, my hands in my pockets. "…H-hey Diane," I greeted her nervously. This was my chance. Probably my only chance. "Hey! How are you, Jayden?" "I…uh…I'm fine…" I was glad my hands were in my pockets. They were shaking like mad, pouring buckets of sweat. My knees felt weak. My head started pounding. Now was the time. "That's great!" "I…um…uh…have something to say to you…Diane." I couldn't back out of it now. I was going to do it. Finally. "Yes…?" I don't know what happened. I just got so caught up in her beauty. No. I didn't say those three words. I leaned forward and kissed her. It was magical. I could feel the sparks, the heat, the fireworks… it felt as though the birds were singing for us. It was like a fairy tale. Then… SMACK. "What was that for?" Diane shrieked. She backed away from me. "I… I just… Diane. I love you. I am truly, madly, deeply in love with you." She opened her mouth to speak. To say something. Please, say you love me. "I-" Diane was suddenly cut off by my sketchbook falling to the ground. It lay on the sidewalk. Looking intrigued, she quickly flipped through the pages. The almost filled up sketchbook of drawings of Diane. Every feature drawn perfectly. Her clothes drawn exactly. And if that wasn't enough, each picture was inscribed with the word Diane. Surrounded with hearts. Diane's eyes opened wide in shock and fear. "I was going to say you were a loser," she sneered. "But now I know better. You're a psycho." The book came flapping back to me like a wounded bird. And Diane left me there. On the sidewalk. Speechless. I had come full circle.
I hope there shall be more, because I want some twists as well. Thank you for recognizing me! You are my best pupil.
So far I'm laughing because she just rejected him like a BOSS! But still seems like it may be a high school love story. I will keep reading if it's not.
What's wrong with the name Jayden…? OH YEAH… I completely forgot about that I wanted to name him Jay, but I don't like that name, so I named him Jayden
Sammi's POV Tears. Sorrowful things. They signify depression, hopelessness. And a broken heart. Tears glistened in Jayden's eyes as he pounded on my door. "What's wrong?" I asked softly, ushering him inside. He just shook his head and began to sob. I led him up to my bedroom, watching him collapse on the soft teal sheets. Then I sat down on the cushiony foam next to him and gazed at my soothing blue walls. Suddenly, I noticed something. Jayden was clutching his sketchbook. I gently pried it out of his fingers and opened it. Elaborate drawings. Intricate lettering. All of one girl. I almost gasped aloud with the unfairness of it all. Here I was. His best friend. In love with him since he moved in next door. Jayden had always said he didn't do portraits, he just drew animals. But he drew Diane perfectly. That stung. I swallowed up my jealousy and tried to be a good friend. "You… loved her, didn't you? Did she reject you?" That explained why he had been so distant the past few months. "Yes. I only love her. I'll never love anyone again." "…Anyone?" "Yes. No other girl is remotely as good as her. There's no other girl I love." I love you. Say it, say it now. I love you. "It's okay, Jayden. It'll get better. She doesn't know what she's missing." Why couldn't I say it? I was just afraid. Afraid it would ruin our friendship. Afraid I would get rejected. "Thanks. You're a great friend." A friend. That's what I was to him, how he saw me. That's all I would ever be to him. When Jayden left I barely noticed. I was slowly wallowing in my own pit of despair. Why could he not see me the way I saw him? Sighing, I rolled onto my fluffy white carpet and stood in front of my mirror, looking at my tear stained face. What was wrong with me? I asked myself silently. My own violet eyes stared back at me. They didn't answer. Neither did my long raven hair. The sunlight streamed in from the window and illuminated my almost elfin looking features. I wasn't beautiful, but I wasn't ugly either. I was just myself. I sadly reached out and rested my palm against the cool glass. But it felt strange… it wasn't firm enough to be glass. Frowning, I pushed on the glass. Ripples formed as the mirror became the consistency of jello. Suddenly the mirror gave way altogether and I was falling, falling down a pitch black, seemingly endless pit. There was a loud thud as I landed. Then everything went black.
Wow..Just, wow. This is awesome, it really is. You use great detail and you describe areas and emotions really well. WELL DONE ANGELA!!