From A Distance

Brandon Lopez

It had been two years since he truly fell for someone.

She was definitely different than the others, not that there were many to compare anyway, but still. ‘She’s perfect’ is all he would say to his friends.
They would ask for information but there was nothing else to really say. He even told his parents about her, which was strange and odd and weird because he never talked to his parents about these types of things. Soon everybody knew he liked her. Everyone.

Everyone except for her.

She was an average girl, really. She was the average height and had average features: medium/long dark brown hair, light brown eyebrows, dark brown eyes, a small nose, pink lips, and a normal looking chin. Her skin tone was medium; her shade was usually the middle one in any product color scheme. She had small hands that were well kept, something her mother had taught her since she was young. Her finger and toenails were always cleanly cut and manicured and she always had lotion to stay moisturized. Her teeth were as white as a pearl and her smile made the boys hearts beat for miles per minute. She didn’t know this. She always viewed herself as one person, one tiny number that filled a space in the 300 million other people in the country, 7 billion other people in the entire world. Her goals, her ambitions, her dreams, were all part of a bigger picture.

He met her in his ethics class.

It was a class he decided to sign up for because his friends were in it, and how cool would it be to tell his kids he took an ‘ethics course back in college’. Something pretty lame and unnecessary, but to him it meant something. Little did he know would this innocent act of scheduling would lead to something life changing. He saw her on the first day, her head tilted while she was writing the heading in her notebook with glasses pressed to her face.

And time stopped. Nothing moved for a split second.

She was everything he had been searching for, everything he always wanted.

She would raise her hand during class. She sat in the middle, front row to pay full attention. She would hurriedly take notes, as if she was writing every single word the professor said. Some days she wore glasses, some days she wore contacts. He couldn’t tell which days he liked better. Her voice was soothing – she spoke so eloquently he didn’t know how old she was, or where she learned to do that. But he noticed how often she was at the library. Reading her textbooks, writing notes, reading leisurely books, talking with the librarian about this and that, using the library’s computer for research.

She was in the honors society, book club and fencing club. How does a person get involved with those three clubs, specifically? Where was she raised?

What was her family like? Did she have any siblings? What was her GPA? What were her values? Did she have good morals? He bet she did. Why was she at the library so much? How did she pick to go to this college? What were her high school friends like? Did she go out often? What kinds of movies or music did she like? How did she talk to boys? It was her smile, her goddamn smile.

He fell for her like no other.

Did he even say hi throughout their time together in ethics? No.

Did she even know he existed? Yes.

Did she say hi to him throughout their time together in ethics? No.

Did he melt every time she smiled? Yes.

Did every boy melt every time she smiled? Yes.

Were there any words or actions exchanged between the two? No.

Why not? Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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