I never understood love. I never understood the way my parents looked at eachother, or how Romeo and Juliet died for one another. I could never piece together how it worked, or why people would put themselves through it. After all, love seems to be the most dangerous thing on this earth. I never intended on having a first-hand experience with it either.
But then, he came along.
I watched as he entered the room, everybody did. How could we not? He was new, even in a big school like ours, new was always noticed. He had this comforting vibe around him, giving off a sense of safety. And, of course, everyone immediately adored him. He was tall, lean, lanky like a giant. With a smile that immediately lit up a room, and the personality that seemed to fit the comforting vibe he admitted.
Mr. Evans seemed to immediately take a liking to him and, smiling as he addressed the new toy of our school he said, “Ah, you must be Mr. collins.” Mr. Evans continued on after introducing the Collins boy to the class and assigning him to the table across from mine.
The class dragged on but I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off him. I was curious as to who this new boy was. What was he like? How did he talk? What was he feeling? He was only a table away, already making friends with the people around him. He was talking, laughing, already brightening up the place with the hour that he’s been here.
