It’s a Girl Thing

Our eyes met briefly across the top of the computers. He was cute. I couldn’t help noticing his dark hair and the way his eyes melted from green to brown with golden flecks. His smile was warm and friendly with a hint of cheekiness. Wow, you can really pick up a lot from only a moment’s contact.

I was finding it hard to concentrate on my research. Internet libraries are a great idea when you don’t have the luxury of a PC at home. But looking around me I wished there were more of them and fewer computers in each. The constant droning of the machines and the click of the keys were mounting to a crescendo and drumming inside my head. Fibonaci’s formulas were hard enough to concentrate on without this entire racket.

And then there was him… silly how your imagination can run away with you. Even more devastating when it involves someone like him. For some reason I was insanely worried about my hair. Maybe I should have spent a few more minutes this morning brushing it. While HE would be sitting there, supremely confident in himself, probably never giving his appearance a thought. What if in my haste to rush out the door to secure a computer I had smudged my lipstick? Perhaps I should check it. But would standing up draw his attention? Maybe I should try to slink away and make sure my appearance is ok, then I can make a re-entrance.

Discreetly looking around me I located the rest rooms and found the best way to get there without drawing too much attention to myself. Carefully I bent down for my bag and in doing so turned so that when I stood up he would not see my face, and my allegedly smudged lipstick.

Quickly and deftly I made it the restroom and found a mirror. I held my breath. Expecting to see a Picasso, I sighed with relief. Well not too bad I suppose. After making a few minor adjustments I was satisfied that I looked at least half decent and prepared to go back. This time I picked the longest route back to my computer, carefully keeping in his view the whole time but deliberately not looking in his direction. I wouldn’t want him to think that I was going to all this trouble just to attract his attention.

With a final toss of my hair, I took my seat opposite him. Still very careful not to look his way I fiddled with my bag and smoothed my shirt. Settling back into my seat I chanced a look in his direction under lowered lashes. I flinched, my eyes opened wide, I sat up straighter. He was…gone. He had left, his computer was even turned off. Disappointment hit me like waves crashing on rocks. He had completely missed my parade, all the trouble I had gone to and he wasn’t even there to see it!

I sighed and slouched back in my chair. Oh well, back to Fibonaci’s spirals.


Copyright © 2012 Shannon Salter. All rights reserved.