I could barely see him over the pile of books I was juggling in my arms. As I listened to my white capezios tap, tap, along the cold terrazo my palms began to sweat. I slowly moved closer. I could smell his cologne. He had jet black hair that complimented his big brown Italian eyes. A ripped bandanna was tied around his head like Rambo most likely torn from an old gray sweatshirt. A red and white football jacket hung neatly on his broad muscular frame. Then I looked in his eyes. Then I remember where I first saw him.
I was neatly dressed in a red and green plaid uniform climbing the stairwell of St. Peter’s School. I noticed a boy quickly walking down past me looking very shy as if he were hiding something. His head was tilted to the left. With my childlike curiosity I strained my neck to see his face. I gasped quietly to myself noticing the dent around his left eye. The skin was multiple shades of red and purple. There were no eyelashes with only half of a brow. The eye appeared to be protruding from its socket.
Rachael ran up to me giddy with excitement demanding that I put my books down. As I bent down hoping my black pants held together I heard
“Cathy, this is Paul, and Paul this is Cathy…ok, now talk!”
She had tried to prepare me, told me how handsome he was and then sternly warned me a few days earlier.
“Do not stare at his left eye.”
“Why not?” I asked as my eyes grew wider.
“Because he has a lot of scars from sugeries. I don’t know the whole story but just don’t do it okay?”
“Okay, don’t worry, I won’t” I repied as I wondered if it was the same boy.
My eyes slowly gazed up and caught his smile as he reached his hand out to greet me. . .
I will occasionally be posting writing samples for a new project I am working on and would love to have input from you guys!