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Authors: M. W. McFarland
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him out when I noticed who it was.
Christopher Wells. Christopher fucking Wells.
I just looked at him for a second. Into his dark-brown—or were they black?—eyes and saw everything. I saw his pain, his suffering, his courage, and his compassion. Almost instantaneously, I saw everything about Chris, and everything about him brought me to the verge of tears. Never before had I been taken aback by just the mere look into another’s eyes. Never before had I been so overwhelmed by such a glance. And never again would I experience this. I changed. This changed me. And it all happened in an instant
“Christopher, please don’t use that type of language. It’s impolite, and it’s not allowed. You could get in serious trouble for that. I should report you.” I was staring into his eyes now, and he was returning my stare.
I was entranced. My legs felt numb, and I could hardly breathe. My heart was racing, and my stomach was fluttering. His stare was cold and harsh. It seemed as if he were lost. Not lost in thought, but actually lost—physically lost. Lost for words? No, couldn’t be. Lost in thought? I’d already decided against it. All I knew was that he was lost, so he must have been lost in something. Lost in something, but what?
“Then, by all means, do something about it.” Chris’s tone was different than before. Something was wrong.
Time seemed to stand still as we studied each other. He was waiting for me to do something—to report him, maybe, or something else. Something else? What else could there be but to report him?
“I guess not.” His gray words went out quickly and sharply and were colored with a black and ominous tone.
His words hurt me, but I didn’t know why. They were only words, and I’d been told far worse from others. Others who were supposed to love and support me. My parents, my friends, my fiancé—their words had all cracked into my conscience and left their marks, yet they had been nothing like this. Not the pain, but the meaning behind them. His words, Chris’s words, had not been meant to hurt or to control but, rather, to explain. I didn’t know why they’d affected me like they had, but the simple truth was that they had.
“Just…” I hesitated. I had no clue what to do. Do I report him, or do I let it go? Why am I even thinking about this? He’s a student! I have to report him. But all that came out next was, “Just come with me.”
“Absolutely.” He spoke without ever taking his eyes away from mine.
That made me shudder. Chris had this certain…aura around him that drew people in all while pushing them away. It was strange to say the least—and stranger still why I would treat him like this.
“Good. This way.” I had no clue where I was going, but I was going there and I was going to do something. I just didn’t know what.
“So, you’re clearly not going to report me,” he muttered too close to my ear, just above my right shoulder. I thought my knees might buckle if he did that again.
I turned my head to look at him, and this time, I caught him off guard. Not wanting to waste a second while having the upper hand, I said, “How do you know that?” I was hoping to catch him with that question, because maybe he hadn’t been expecting it.
“You’re going the wrong way.” Chris was smirking now, clearly content with his control over the situation.
I, however, was horrified of losing control of a situation. Especially one where I had no clue whatsoever about what I was doing or what my intentions were. This kid confused me so much, and he hardly had to say anything at all. It was very infuriating.
“Maybe I’m going a different way than what you think.” That was a lousy excuse for a misdirection, Jennet.
“Whatever you say. While we’re waiting for what you’re planning to do, why don’t we go over when you can help me with your class?” I nodded. “Great! I’m going to have to recant “ —Recant—I haven’t heard that word in a
Christopher Wells. Christopher fucking Wells.
I just looked at him for a second. Into his dark-brown—or were they black?—eyes and saw everything. I saw his pain, his suffering, his courage, and his compassion. Almost instantaneously, I saw everything about Chris, and everything about him brought me to the verge of tears. Never before had I been taken aback by just the mere look into another’s eyes. Never before had I been so overwhelmed by such a glance. And never again would I experience this. I changed. This changed me. And it all happened in an instant
“Christopher, please don’t use that type of language. It’s impolite, and it’s not allowed. You could get in serious trouble for that. I should report you.” I was staring into his eyes now, and he was returning my stare.
I was entranced. My legs felt numb, and I could hardly breathe. My heart was racing, and my stomach was fluttering. His stare was cold and harsh. It seemed as if he were lost. Not lost in thought, but actually lost—physically lost. Lost for words? No, couldn’t be. Lost in thought? I’d already decided against it. All I knew was that he was lost, so he must have been lost in something. Lost in something, but what?
“Then, by all means, do something about it.” Chris’s tone was different than before. Something was wrong.
Time seemed to stand still as we studied each other. He was waiting for me to do something—to report him, maybe, or something else. Something else? What else could there be but to report him?
“I guess not.” His gray words went out quickly and sharply and were colored with a black and ominous tone.
His words hurt me, but I didn’t know why. They were only words, and I’d been told far worse from others. Others who were supposed to love and support me. My parents, my friends, my fiancé—their words had all cracked into my conscience and left their marks, yet they had been nothing like this. Not the pain, but the meaning behind them. His words, Chris’s words, had not been meant to hurt or to control but, rather, to explain. I didn’t know why they’d affected me like they had, but the simple truth was that they had.
“Just…” I hesitated. I had no clue what to do. Do I report him, or do I let it go? Why am I even thinking about this? He’s a student! I have to report him. But all that came out next was, “Just come with me.”
“Absolutely.” He spoke without ever taking his eyes away from mine.
That made me shudder. Chris had this certain…aura around him that drew people in all while pushing them away. It was strange to say the least—and stranger still why I would treat him like this.
“Good. This way.” I had no clue where I was going, but I was going there and I was going to do something. I just didn’t know what.
“So, you’re clearly not going to report me,” he muttered too close to my ear, just above my right shoulder. I thought my knees might buckle if he did that again.
I turned my head to look at him, and this time, I caught him off guard. Not wanting to waste a second while having the upper hand, I said, “How do you know that?” I was hoping to catch him with that question, because maybe he hadn’t been expecting it.
“You’re going the wrong way.” Chris was smirking now, clearly content with his control over the situation.
I, however, was horrified of losing control of a situation. Especially one where I had no clue whatsoever about what I was doing or what my intentions were. This kid confused me so much, and he hardly had to say anything at all. It was very infuriating.
“Maybe I’m going a different way than what you think.” That was a lousy excuse for a misdirection, Jennet.
“Whatever you say. While we’re waiting for what you’re planning to do, why don’t we go over when you can help me with your class?” I nodded. “Great! I’m going to have to recant “ —Recant—I haven’t heard that word in a
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