Fell in Love with a Girl

The beginning of a short story. The title is more of a description than a final title.

Jean Harrington was a girl who instantly attracted attention when she walked into a room. At least, she certainly had mine. She was tall and willowy in stature, and she moved with all the grace and dignity of a royal.  Her blonde hair and ivory skin gave her an elf-like quality in spite of her height.  All that aside, it was her quiet unassuming confidence that drew me to her above all else.  From the first moment I saw her, I was bewitched. It was instant, irreversible infatuation. She commanded a strange hold over me, obliviously of course, but no weaker for that. It hasn’t wavered in all the years since then, and at this stage, I doubt it ever will.

 I was fourteen when she first walked through the classroom door of our history class. I remember exactly what we were studying at the time- it was the Romans. The creak of the old door hinge interrupted Mr. Ardle’s monologue on the Circus Maximus mid-sentence- and then, she appeared.

Whispers spread through the class like a slight breeze- nothing unusual in a room of thirty-three fourteen-year old girls.

 Another new student. The leaders of the cliques sized her up, silently deciding whether or not to make a play to initiate the new girl into their respective groups. The class comprised several mini-societies, each with their own ethos, leader and set of unwritten rules.  If more than one group liked the look of a new girl, there would be a serious competition to win her.  When May Dentson had joined last semester, no one had gone out of their way to recruit her.  The superficiality of prepubescent female relations hadn’t been kind to May, who didn’t have much to offer in the way of looks, pretty clothes or wit.  But there was something about Jean, a touch of the mysterious that drew the girls to her like moths to a flame.  She would have no problems settling into life at Greenpark; she would have plenty of options. Looking at her cool composed features, I instantly felt that such trivialities wouldn’t matter to her anyway.  Years later, Jean would tell me that behind her set mouth and unblinking blue eyes; her careful composure;  stepping through that door had been terrifying to her- which only made me love her all the more.

 Myself, I had no designs to make friends with Jean. I didn’t fancy my chances of success and my delicate ego couldn’t risk the sting of rejection.  I wasn’t in a clique, partly by choice, partly by force of circumstance. I don’t think I was ever really an outsider on the face of it, but in my head I was completely detached from the other girls. I always felt as though I was missing something; there was always some kind of a block cutting me off from the greater society. I just didn’t get it, I didn’t know what it was- and they sensed my confusion.  Consequentially, they left me to my own devices; and by and large, I was happy on my own.

I used to watch her in the lunch room, hoping no one would notice my furtive glances in her direction.  Fortunately, I had nothing to worry about. Amongst the others, matters of critical importance made up the lunchtime chat. A few bold orators would hold council, on every topic, in loud authorative voices that implied that these important matters had just been solved, once and for all.  

Reviews

[Devine Miss C]

Hi there - I like this. You have certainly summed up nicely exactly how high school used to be. I have no idea what it would be like to have been at an all girls school (actually I am only making that assumption based on u mentioning this one class), but I am not sure I would have dealt well with it. I was too smart and athletic to be popular- wasnt the done thing when I was back in school, so I can relate to your protagonist well. I am looking forward to reading more and seeing what it is about Jean that hooks her in for the years to come.
Keep up the good work :)