Once you think about it, you can never take it back. You can never not
think about it. It's always there, in the back of your mind. Don't try
to get rid of the thought because it doesn't work. Believe me. I've
tried
The only light in my room is from the flickering flame of the candles I
had lit. The air is still as I sit and stare at the candles, remembering.
Because I've always loved candles and the soothing effect of the scents
and flame, I have almost every size, color, shape and scented candle imaginable.
My favorite, is the light-blue candle that smells like an ocean breeze
and has three wicks. I melted the wax on the sides of the candle
and placed sea shells from my trip to Florida the summer before into the
candle. Scott gave me the candle on our one-month anniversary.
He said the color reminded him of my eyes.
Baby blue with the thickest eye lashes possible,
just like my mother's. Everyone says I look like my mother even though
I have more of my father's features. His small, button-like nose, his wavy
brown hair, and his tall stature. Besides my eyes, I inherited my mother's
mouth, my lips are full, pouty and a bright shade of vermillion,
and her cheek bones, high with sharp angles. Most people would
think this combination would make me look beautiful. But all it did, is
make my face look "thrown together" like God didn't have a pattern when
made up my face. The full lips on my narrow face make my mouth appear two
sizes too big for my face. My eye lashes hide my pretty eyes
and make me look like I am wearing far too much mascara. I never thought
anyone, who didn't have to by law or family obligation, could bring themselves
to be seen with me, much less love me. All that changed when I met Scott.
I was in the school office, photocopying some worksheets that Mr.
Bell, one of my teachers, had wanted. I was his aide that period, which
meant I photocopied things he wanted, graded papers, entered grades into
the computer, and such, when he didn't have time to do it himself, when
a boy and his mother walked in and asked to speak with the principal.
"Mr. Fergus? There are some people here to see you." I shouted through
the open door to his office.
Leaving Mr. Fergus, the boy, and his mother alone, I went back to photocopying.
Although I normally try not to listen in on conversations, there
was something about this boy's eyes that made me want to hear what he was
going to say. I learned that the boy, whose name was Scott Davenport, had
just transferred from Kingsford University, a very high profile private
school for boys. He was to be enrolled that day, and start class the next
day.
Scott was very attractive. He had the greenest eyes
I have ever seen, and not that brownish-green color, more like Jade colored.
Tall, but not too tall, and muscular. You could tell he worked out but
he wasn't overly concerned with how "buff" he was. Although he was attractive,
I wasn't thrilled with the idea of another one of "Kingsford's" transfers
coming here. At that time I had met three other transfers from there and
they were all very rude, conceited, and obnoxious. They all seemed to think,
just because I had never been to a private school I wasn't good enough
to talk to. Once, in Mr. Bell's class, I was assigned a project to work
on with Preston, one of the guys who had been transferred from Kingsford.
As soon as he heard who he was partnered up with, Preston begged the teacher
for a new partner, claiming he "just couldn't work with someone like" me.
I just shrugged and proceeded to brainstorm ideas for our paper. Preston
didn't get a new partner, but he didn't help with the paper either.
The next day I sat in Study Hall finishing up an essay for my next class,
when Scott and Mr. Fergus walked in. Mr. Fergus left Scott standing in
the middle of the foyer and stopped to speak to Ms. Rose, I figured he
was explaining who the new boy was. When Mr. Fergus left, Ms. Rose
introduced Scott to the class, told us he had transferred from Kingsford,
he was a senior, and she wanted us all to help him feel welcome to Jefferson
High School. Scott blushed at all the attention and sat at the end of my
table by himself, oblivious to all the whispers and snickers coming from
some of the less hospitable kids in my class. I wanted to talk to him,
but I wasn't sure what to say. Finally I asked him what classes he was
taking.
"Wow, we have the same schedule," I exclaimed.
"Really?" He questioned.
"Yep, my name is Samantha by the way. Do you know how to get
to all the classes or do you want me to show you around?"
"No, I don't know my way to any of the classes. My name
is Scott, nice to meet you"
"All right, well class just started, so you have about 40 minutes
to do anything you want. I have to finish this essay for our next class.
I don't really think you'll have to do it though."
Scott just sat there and smiled as I rattled off the list of
assignments from our other classes and explained how I thought he wouldn't
have to do any of it considering he was new. When I realized I had been
talking for 20 minutes and hadn't worked on my essay I stopped talking
and focused.
On the way to our next class, I asked Scott questions about himself,
his family, and why he had transferred.
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" I quizzed.
"I have a sister, but she doesn't live with my family and me
anymore, she lives with her boyfriend in California. My parents and I moved
from there a few weeks ago."
"Why did you transfer from Kingsford? I thought they had a great
sports team and a good teaching staff."
He smiled. "Well, they do have a good teaching staff, and the
sports teams are ok, but the students there aren't the friendliest people
in the world. If you know what I mean."
"Yeah I know what you mean, there are a few other guys who go
to school here, that have transferred over. Most of them are jerks."
We sat down at one of the tables and continued to talk until
Mrs. Hunter, the English teacher, told everyone to settle down and turn
in their essays. I learned so much about Scott but he hadn't asked me any
questions, I wasn't sure what to make of this.
"Is there any thing you want to know about me? I mean I have
been asking you all these questions and you haven't asked me a single one."
"Yeah I have one question, when's lunch?"
I laughed, maybe a little louder and harder than I should have,
but that was a question I hadn't been expecting. "Well, lunch is in about
45 minutes" I replied "think you can make it until then?"
He laughed. "Yeah, I think I can make it. We can talk more and
I can ask my questions about you all right? Lets work on this vocabulary
worksheet."
"All right."
At lunch we found Scott's locker so he could put his bag away and then
headed down to the cafeteria to grab a piece of pizza and talk.
"All right Scott, what do you want to know about me?" I asked.
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"
"Nope, I'm an only child. I've always wanted a sister though."
Scott laughed.
"I'm serious," I continued, "I've always wanted someone I could
talk "girl talk" with, my mom and I aren't really close and I certainly
can't talk to my dad about guys or anything like that."
"Yeah, I guess being a girl and having a sister is different
from being a guy and having one. She always seemed to be in my way, always
talking on the phone when I needed it, or always in the bathroom when I
needed to take a shower." I smiled atwhat he said because it was
something my dad always said to me. That I was always where he needed to
be.
"Ok, what do you need to talk to me about Sammi?" Scott asked.
"All right, I don't know how to say this, so I'll just come out
with it. I really like you Scott, and not that ‘just as friends' like."
I blurted out.
"Oh wow..."
"I know...I know you don't feel the same way, I just thought
it would be best if I was honest with you. Please don't let this change
anything all right?"
Scott smiled and leaned over to kiss my cheek. "Who says I don't
feel the same? You were the only one who talked to me on my first day and
by the way, how could I not feel the same way? Look at you. You're
beautiful."
I blushed and looked away. We continued to talk under the willow
tree until the fire flies came out. He walked me home, holding my hand
the whole way.
We started going out a few days later and my days were soon full
of questions from people who, under normal circumstances, would never have
talked to me.
"Are you and Scott...you know?" One girl asked me on the way
to English.
"It depends, what do you mean by ‘You know'?"
"Well, I see you two together all the time, holding hands, eating
lunch together. People who aren't going out, normally don't do that stuff."
"A guy and a girl can hold hands and just be friends you know,
and I see you and Phil eating lunch together all the time, are you going
out with him?" I countered.
"Well no, but I..."
"If you are asking if Scott and I are together, yes, we are going
out. If it's any of your business." I quipped.
"Well, I...I was just wondering."