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Sunday, June 12, 2011

A Story About Penguins.

It was Monday, when she met him.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as he strode effortlessly from one group to another, followed by high fives, laughter, and the infatuated eyes of girls like her, waiting for him to melt them with that smile. He, a freshman whose stance was that of a Senior. Part of the varsity team, always working hard to have his way. He, who firmly believes that everything was combined luck and hard work. He, whom she have seen for the first time that day, and, within ten minutes or maybe even less, managed to catch her attention, and never let it go since then.

She sighed, having no experience on anything that has to do with love. At her young age, she has read numerous books and novels describing the indescribable feeling, and she'd fall for it every time. She would hug her book to her chest and wear that smile, showing off her braces, and a cloud of romantic fantasies would start growing over her head- a boy holding her hand, telling her all the things she needed to hear. It was always like that for her. Dreams. She, whose skin was a joke compared to all the girls she'd always seen in the glossy pages of her favorite teen magazine. She, who never had a bad hair day, which meant no good ones either, for that matter. She, whose black rimmed glasses would fall off her nose each time she bowed her head too low, deeply engrossed in answering a Sudoku puzzle, or reading a romance novel, or doing her friends' Math homework for them. Simply put, he was the boy next door. She, as painful as it was for her to admit, was just a hopeless romantic, just another starry eyed girl, waiting for her turn to fall in love, and be loved in return.

What she didn't know, and what he didn't have the heart to tell her, was how adorable she looked everytime she'd sneak out of her classes and pretend to be going to the ladies room, just so she could catch a glimpse of him. How, in his peripheral vision, when she was too busy trying to hide herself in the crowd just so he wouldn't notice that she was looking, he'd stare as her for as long as he could, memorizing everything about her, admiring her from afar. How lovely he thought her skin was. How, in the middle of the night, when she was sitting by her window, wishing at the stars, he lied awake thinking about her. He wanted to tell her about himself, and get to know her in return, but he thought so mighty of her that he wouldn't even dare. For him, she was a dream, and only luck could bring them together.

And so one particular day, it was exam week, and everyone was out late for lunch. The cafeteria was full, and her friends were still not done with their exams. Every bench outside was occupied, too. She chose a spot on a patch of grass under a maple tree, sitting cross legged, eating her sandwich without any drink. She couldn't be bothered to get in line and get one for herself, so she decided she would just drink water from the tap when she was done.

He, on the other hand, didn't have to get in line to get his food. He didn't even have to pay. Everything was handed to him, either from his teammates in varsity, or the girls trying to catch his attention. On his hand were a carton of juice and a bag of cookies, and also a hotdog sandwich. Everyone offered him their seats, but that was when he spotted her, alone, leaning against the trunk of the tree. Nervous, he gathered all the courage he could muster to bring himself to her and make a small talk.

"Today must be my lucky day," he said, offering her his juice.

That was the beginning of everything.

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