Pretty Blue Eyes

Um...this did come to me when I got to thinking about something...MY eyes. Strange, yes, but I was sitting across from my best friend yesterday when she said to me, "Dude, your eyes." And I was like, "What about them?" And she said. "They're really blue. I mean, they're an intense blue." And when I looked around me, I realize that I'm the only one at my table with blue BLUE eyes. Everyone elses are brown, green, or gray (like a dull blue). And I thought maybe I was the only one with these kind of eyes. Intense blue. He he, sounds like a Crayola crayon. Curious, I went and studied them in the restroom mirror, PRETENDING to check my hair so I wouldn't look like an idiot, and they are an intensified blue, as my friend said. And then after lunch we were at our lockers, and I saw my JC locker magnet (he he -- he's mine to abuse) and I realized that I'm not the only one with those kind of blue eyes...P. S. I'm not the chick in this story, nor do her opinions reflect my own. (Okay, except for that one comment on JC...)

I opened my locker and sighed at it's contents. Books. Books, books, books, books. A book for every single freaking subject, except gym, and I think they would give me a book for that one too if they could. My friend Kari was spinning her locker combination, and she looked up at me. "Hi," she said.

"Hi," I said, looking back. She shook her head. "What?" I asked, wondering if maybe I had grown a second head.

"Nothing," she sighed. "I just think that I would kill for eyes like yours."

I studied mine in her locker mirror, and then her own brown ones. "There's nothing wrong with yours. I think they're sexy," I said, teasing her a little.

She sighed again. "But mine are so...common. People don't ever stare you in the eyes because they're so instense. They're the frostiest color blue I have ever seen," she said. I think that she's going to be a writer someday.

I looked at mine in the locker mirror again. I shook my head, and grabbed the right books for my first hour class. "Whatever. I'll see you later," I said.

"See ya," she said.

Intense blue eyes. Ha! I thought. They're just regular blue.

I got home about four o'clock, and my sister was already blasting her *N Sync. She's only in Second grade. I have not yet had the pleasure itroducing her to DMX or AC/DC or Tupac, or any of my music. She's still in her oh-my-god-teenybopper-bubblegum-pop phase. Which is okay, but it gets a little annoying after the sixth CD repeat, if you know what I mean.

I just went to her room to let her know that I was home if she needed help on her homework, but she was already doing it at her desk with her *N Sync CD playing. I looked at her back which was facing me, focusing my stare on the middle of her back. It's a game we play, a way of annoying each other. Aside from our seperate music tastes of course. She caught on immediately, turned around and said, "Hi."

"Hi," I answered. The conversation earlier with Kari still in the back of my mind, I experimented on my sister. I kept staring. I didn't even mean to do it, I was doing it subconciously.

"What?" she asked nervously.

"What?" I asked back, knowing that I was making her nervous.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked, almost scared, I could hear it in her voice.

"Why do you think I'm staring at you?" I asked, desperate to keep the experiment going.

She got a really scared look on her face. "You look like that crazy person in...oops," she said.

"You watched that movie that mom told you not to, didn't you?" I asked, knowing as long as my gaze never wavered I could get any kind of truth out of her that I wanted.

"Stop looking at me!" she yelled.

I realized that she was near tears, and I diverted my gaze to my shoes. "Okay," I said.

"Your eyes," she said quietly. "They were scaring me."

I exploded. "God, will everyone JUST STOP making such a big deal of my eyes! They're not anything special! I feel like I'm the only one with these eyes the way you put me under a microscope!" I yelled. I ran from her room and dove for my room, and under my red comforter.

I don't know why it had bothered me so much. I just wasn't used to people paying a lot of attention to me, or my eyes for that matter. My eyes are nothing special. Nothing. Special. Got it?

I didn't speak during supper. And neither did my sister. Not that my parents noticed, my mom was eating to get ready to leave for her evening shift at the hospital, and my dad was on his cell phone. My sister would sneak little glances at me, to make sure that I wasn't staring at her again. I finished my dinner quickly, and went back up to my room to do some homework. I switched on some Dr. Dre, and went to work on some Algebra equations.

About half an hour later, I heard a piece of paper being slid under the door on my hardwood floor, and a pair of feet running across the hall. I looked at the piece of paper, a notebook paper with another paper paper-clipped to the notebook paper. The notebook paper read:

You're not the only one with those kind of blue eyes. I'm not sure what a mikroskope is, but I don't think you're on one. Here's a picture.

I carefully lifted up the sheet of notebook paper, and it revealed a magazine page. It was marked "JC of *N Sync," and, pardon my raunchy mind, but I could have eaten him with a big spoon. Aww, skip the spoon. We're talking french fries.

My eyes traveled up to meet the picture's gaze.

An intense, almost creepy blue not unlike my own.