10 years later ...
New York of the 21st century is a beaming city where no one stops to look at the sky. Phones, files, books and comics keep one busy enough. The skyscrapers anyway block the view of the sky. A variety of people were brisking under the sun, some sulking while some fluttered like butterflies, inhaling the 'zeal in the air', they might say.
High schools started after the winter break and everybody was eager to pomp their
Insta stories or Facebook status. Some had gone to Jamaica, some to Rio De Jenario and some others to even farther towards east. It was a beginning after the winter break and usually the new recruitments weren't a usual procedure but that post-winter break was different. It changed most of my life and yes, my mind as well.
In one such high school named Eleanor Roosevelt High School, the senior year was
beaming with smile. There was a new student. He joined in the middle of the year. The senior year students, ignoring to bully the freshmen, started whispering nasty and sugary comments on the new student.
"He looks like a vanilla smoothie."
"His skin is like whipped cream."
"Such an eye-candy."
Were some compliments used by the cheerleaders. All of them stared at him but none had the guts to approach. Including me.
The first bell rang. Everyone skittered back to their class halls. The senior class was a
little crisp that day. Everyone was gossiping about the whereabouts of the new comer.
But finally, Mrs. Holms, the Hall in charge, broke the mysteries of the case. She
signalled the new handsome boy to stand by her side. Then she started,
"Welcome, my little big buds! I hope you have had a good vacation!" a faint cry of some uncool polite students as myself, replied her with great enthusiasm. I could hear Linda Ziegler, a blonde cheerleader snickered a giggle from the behind. I gave her back a death stare.
Slowly, Mrs. Holms' hand touched the shoulder of the guy standing beside her.
"So, this is Mark Hannigal. He had moved here from Nebraska. Mark, I will now
request you introduce yourself to the class." And she pushed him slowly towards the
podium.
The lean and muscular body shrugged for a second. I had a disorder in which I had a
tendency to observe every damn movement of a person. It is a menace. I was known for my 'staring people' attitude. Mason James, a lacrosse boy, even nicknamed me 'Starrer' once in sophomore year.
Mark's eyes were down in embarrassment. But he didn't look like a shy person. A grin
shoved off his jaw line. It was chiselled sharp. He indeed looked like a Nebraskan. His
black eyes shifted from one kind to another while he spoke, "Hello, everyone. I, am Mark Hannigal, I just shifted from Nebraska. I prefer soccer
upon lacrosse and…."
And then he stopped. I was looking down at my hands, my thumbs circling each other.
I was enraptured by a thought and I couldn't hear the new student anymore. Leila
Masmard, shook me out of my dreams and signalled me to look ahead.
He was looking straight at me.
For a matter of twenty seconds, everyone started looking at us. His gaze was struck at me and my gaze at him. I couldn't shut my eyes or look anywhere else.
It seemed that I had lost the control over my eyes and my eyelids have surprisingly
forgotten to move or even blink. Now, was the best time if everything goes back in
place, but neither did I know, my life was never going to be the same.
At that very moment, Mark passed out. Some of the girls screamed, some guys laughed but there was no sign of seriousness or sympathy. Everything was falling apart.
My friends stared at me in disbelief. Sure, it was not going be easy….