Eyes on You

Chapter 9: Caught in the Crossfire

For the next few days, I was floating on absolute air.

The tiny, accidental brush of his finger against mine during the worksheet hand-out had completely rewired my brain. I was walking through the crowded school hallways with a secret, ridiculous smile permanently plastered on my face, feeling like I was the main character in a movie only I was watching. Aarna kept asking me why I was in such a good mood during Math, and I just shrugged, blaming it on getting enough sleep or the weather. I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't say, because a boy in French class grazed my hand for a microsecond, and now I’m meticulously planning our entire future. By Thursday, the weather had finally cleared up. The gloomy, heavy rain from earlier in the week was gone, replaced by bright, sharp sunlight that streamed through the tall windows and spilled across the wooden desks in the French classroom. You could see little motes of dust dancing in the beams of light.

The teacher had written a complex grammar exercise on the board and given us ten minutes to complete it silently. The room settled into a heavy quiet, save for the rhythmic scratching of pens, the occasional rustle of a turning page, and the steady ticking of the wall clock.

But I couldn’t think a single word. My open textbook was entirely forgotten. I had my chin resting heavily on my hand, my pen discarded on my desk, and I was blatantly, shamelessly staring at the side of his face.

I was tracing the line of his jaw with my eyes, entirely lost in my own intricate daydream. I watched the way the sunlight hit the dark strands of his hair and the relaxed slump of his shoulders. I was completely lulled into a false sense of security, entirely forgetting the number one, most important rule of having a secret crush: always be ready to look away.

Without any warning, the relaxed line of his shoulders shifted.

He threw a casual glance over his shoulder till his eyes locked directly, undeniably onto mine.

I was caught.

There was absolutely no time to look down at my textbook. There was no time to shift my gaze to the window, or pretend I was looking at the clock on the wall right behind his head. I had been staring dead at him, and he knew it.

The air in my lungs just vanished. A hot, violent wave of panic and raw embarrassment immediately rushed over my entire body, flooding my cheeks and the tips of my ears with sudden heat. I froze like a deer in headlights, my pulse hammering against my throat so hard and so fast that it actually hurt. I stopped breathing entirely. I waited for him to look creeped out, or to just quickly turn back around and ignore me.

But the craziest thing happened. He froze, too.

The easy, effortless confidence he usually carried himself with just slipped away in an instant. His eyes widened slightly, totally caught off guard by the fact that I was already looking right at him. For two agonizing, electric seconds, the entire world narrowed down to the three feet of empty space between our desks. Neither of us breathed. We just stared at each other, trapped in this sudden, intense crossfire.

And then, I saw it—the absolute unmistakable proof that I wasn't the only one affected. A faint hint of pink started creeping up the back of his neck, reaching the tips of his ears.

He swallowed hard, the movement visible in his throat, suddenly looking incredibly flustered. His eyes darted away from mine for a microsecond before he quickly snapped his head back around to face the front of the room. I watched his shoulders tense rigidly as he nervously ran a hand through his hair. He picked up his pen, suddenly pretending to be fiercely interested in the blank page in front of him.

I slowly, shakily let out the breath I had been holding, sinking lower into my chair. My hands were actually trembling where they rested in my lap. My heart was beating so fast I was genuinely terrified Aarna was going to hear it pounding in the desk right next to me.

I stared at his back, completely overwhelmed by a rush of pure, unadulterated adrenaline that made my ears buzz.

He was nervous. He hadn't been smooth, and he hadn't been cool. He had been just as flustered, just as caught off guard, as I was. I spent the rest of the period staring blankly at my unfinished translation, completely consumed by the absolute certainty that this was the beginning of everything.