This is a short story I wrote a couple of years ago for a theme contest. While I did not win, I do like this story and have often thought of expanding it into a full length novel involving mermaids. ;p Enjoy!
There he was again. That strange, beautiful boy. He was sitting in his usual corner of the cafeteria, only a bottle of water in front of him. He was tall, at least 6’2. He wasn’t muscular exactly, leaning more towards lanky. But he had strong hands. And now they gripped the bottled water. He leaned his head over the table, his curly, blonde hair hiding his eyes from me. But I didn’t need to see them. I had memorized them long ago. They were the cold gray of stone, and equally hard. And yet, deep within them, I could see the spark of warmth. Some undiscovered secret that I longed to know. But no one could ever get close enough to him to know. That’s just how things were.
And then he lifted his head. And those stone, cold eyes that I had only ever observed from afar met mine. And I couldn’t breath. The chatter of the cafeteria faded from my ears and all was silent except for the beating of my heart. His eyes danced as they bore into mine and the spark I had always imagined was there, shone brighter than ever. I could see the warm being inside, quietly calculating, calmly observing. His lips quirked up slightly and I could see a refined sense of humor in him as well. So much inside, yet so little exposed to the world.
My eyes were wide and had begun to dry out when I finally blinked. And in the half second of that blink the voices returned, my breath returned, and his hair covered his face once more, his stony exterior firmly in place. Had I only imagined that? Had I slipped into a daydream or merely a lapse of consciousness? My hands were gripping the table so hard my fingers had turned red at the ends and my knuckles were bone white.
“Are you okay?” Olivia, my best friend, leaned close to my ear and whispered. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
I looked at her quickly before returning my gaze back to him. “I…I don’t know.” I admitted. “I think…I just need some air.” I pushed away from the table, my chair squealing on the tile, before I ran for the exit. I burst through the doors, breathing the crisp November air in gasps. I clutched my arms around myself and fell onto the stone benches that sat by the doors.
I was trying to regain my composure when the door opened behind me. I tensed immediately. I could sense it. It was him. A strong, tan hand rested on my shoulder and I looked up. I met those grey eyes once more, and this time they hid nothing. I could plainly see the person behind them. He smiled down at me, a teasing, amused smile. One I had no choice but to return. He took the seat beside me, cradling my hand in his and averted his gaze across the busy interstate that ran beside the school, towards the western horizon, and beyond that, the sea.
2011 (c) Evelyn E. Gaerke
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