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A loud pop rang out…they all started running as fast as they could. People were cheering so loud I thought my ears were going to start bleeding.
Him. He was running faster than everyone else. His auburn hair was blowing from the wind showing of his face. He never greased his hair when he ran track. His grey eyes were squinted from the sun in his face. The sun made his hair look pretty. The sun hit it at just the right angle. He was pretty.
Greasers are supposed to be tough. Pony wasn’t tough though..he was soft he was nothing like a greaser honestly, but he had the looks for it. I could hear his worn down shoes hit the ground will each step. His arms were moving in sync, one back, one forward. His chest was going up and down as he was running. His mouth was hanging open slightly breathing in and out fast but calm. He was slightly glistening from sweat. He was the only think I could focus on. Not the cheering not getting pushed around in the crowd not the shaking of the bleachers from people jumping. Nothing. It was him.
He’s so pretty.
He doesn’t deserve me.
But I wish I could deserve him.
But alas. He was a boy. My best friend. I would never put him though people hating him for loving me.
I would never. But I wish I could.
He’s what I dream of at the lot. He’s who I think of when I smoke.
Him.
He’s so pretty, it hurts.