True Beauty

You would think the perfect love story contains a beautiful girl and a handsom boy but what you don't know is that we are not all beautiful. Becca's story will tell you her POV

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3. That Guy

The boy with the floppy blonde hair and mysterious sea-blue eyes was staring at me. Probably for the wrong reasons. His face was unreadable but I fell for him instantly. He was slightly tanned and had a very masculine abdomen from what his too tight school shirt was inferring. Mr Chase sent me back to my seat while I came up with senarios who we -myself and the blonde boy- could be together but nothing came even close to reality. They were all too far to reach at this point.

The bell signals end of period by 10 o'clock as the class bolts out of their prison chamber. I look at the subject sheet and realise that I have a free period. I'm not sure what to do wit it though. As my mind races with ideas I bump into Blonde Boy. My mind goes blank.'Sorry ' the boy says in an English accent but unlike any other boy he looks me in the eye.

'Becca right? I'm Jay Mason. Pleased to meet you. You have the most beautiful eyes, oh did I just say that?'

Did he really just say that. The first boy, no the first person to ever give me a compliment. It was the best but strangest feeling ever. All my logical thinking was crushed by those six words. The best words I ever heard.'Yeah Becca.' I manage to say after a minute of glaring.'Thanks, do you want to have lunch together? I mean, em, hang about?' He says in way which either means he's acting or he really is asking to hang out.

'What about now, I have a free period!'

'That's awsome, so do I but then we'd skip about the lunch thing.'

By the time were on a bench outside after a long awkward silence we get onto the getting to know each other. I realise I'm full on staring at him and turn away shyly, covering the permenant scar. He tells me he plays guitar and that he's an only child. He then askes me about my life.

'There's nothing to say really.'

'I'm sure there is. With eyes like that there has to be a past.'

'We'll um, my names Becca Elmouse, I was born on the 1st November and my lifes total crap.'

'Why?' he asks. Why? I think before I respond, should I tell him about my parents divorce, or the fact that I have no friends. Or maybe that I was in a car accident that killed the one and only true friend I had when I was 11. He sees my uncomfortable facial expression and changes the subject to favourite music while stroking back my hair. He sees the horrible scar but ignores it. Again, the only person to ever ignore the scar. I am begining to believe he likes me but I immediately put that thought away, as if although that guy is the only guy to ever notice me.

 

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