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Beauty and the Brave
She sits in the same seat every single day. Well every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at least, that's when our ten o'clock biology is. She’s only missed class once or twice. I assume it’s due to the exhaustion that comes with being an athlete in college. She wears athletic clothes most of time, usually branded with her sport. Sometimes she wears a skirt or a dress, and wow, does she look beautiful. Not that she doesn’t look gorgeous in her athletic clothes either, but the dress is like Van Gogh’s final touch on “The Starry Night”.
And her hair, wow. It’s a milk chocolate brown with a hint of auburn. Some days it’s wavy like she came from the beach. Other days it’s pin-straight. And when the font on the professor’s slides is too small, she puts it up in a ponytail and puts on these adorable glasses. She’s tall and lean and she doesn’t wear a lot of makeup. She has the rosiest cheeks you’ve ever seen. Like those painted on a doll.
She doesn’t talk to anyone around her. One time she walked into the room talking to someone, but she abandoned them to sit in her usual spot. She doesn’t ask any questions nor does she answer any. She’s quiet and maybe shy, but it gives her an air of mystery. Like her voice is a well-guarded treasure that she only shares with a select few.
I saw her at a party last weekend, dancing in the corner with her friends. Some guy approached her and they left together. Her friends didn’t seem worried. Maybe he was a boyfriend. Or a friend. I guess he could have been a stranger. I don’t want to think of her as being that way but we all have hidden personalities, right?
She’s beautiful and I could never tell that to her. I couldn’t approach her. I’d love to have an hour of her time. Just sixty minutes. Thirty-six hundred seconds. She’d turn me down in a heartbeat, though. But she’s beautiful and deserves to know it.
As class was ending, I happened to be walking behind her on our way out. She joined up with a friend.
“God, are all guys the same here? I just want someone to ask me on a real date. I hate that every guy just wants to be a one-and-done. Like that guy from last weekend wanted me to go back to his room with him.” She sighed and her friend patted her back.
This was it.
I took a deep breath and tapped her on the back.
“Excuse me.”
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