Descriptive Writing

It was a cloudy day. I walked to school nervously. Whenever I thought of the promise I made to my friend, the butterflies in my stomach started to try to break through. “Today is the day,” I said to myself.

It was lunch time, and I went to the library as usual. After positioning myself in a chair and catching enough sneaky glances from my three friends who stood by the library door, I stood up and started roaming in the library. My best friend points toward the silent guy in the corner who was reading intently. “Okay…” I took a deep breath, scared, “as I practiced.” I stared at him with admiration. He rested his head o、n his left hand, with his right hand holding the book. He seemed so calm and relaxed. I knew I would hate myself for disturbing him. “But, a deal is a deal. I never break a promise.” I whispered to myself. I looked down at my feet and laughed at myself for being such a coward all the time. Today is the day to change; today is the day to talk to him for the first time, I thought. I glanced at my friends who were already spread out, waiting for the show to begin. It was not going to be long conversation, I knew. However, I also knew, the first impression is the most important. I walked towards him. I stopped. I looked at one of my friend and wished to receive encouragement. Instead, she smiled evilly and pointed at him a few times with her chin. I shook my head a little and looked around to make sure none of the people I know are looking. I kept on walking slowly with my head low. There’s still a chance to turn back, I thought, breaking a promise is better than embarrassing myself in front of the guy I like. But, I kept going, because sooner or later, I’d have to do it. I glanced up and saw his innocent face focused on his book. I felt a little encouraged.

“Hi.” I said awkwardly.

He looked up slowly. Obviously, he liked his book more than me. “Hey.”

I hesitated. My head went blank. What was the line again? I thought nervously. All I practiced was forgotten. “I’m Tracey.”

He looked at me, a little confused, and looked down at his book for a second. “Oh, I’m *****.” He held out his hand. It took me eternity to realize or believe that he was offering me a handshake. I just stood there and stared at his hand, unable to believe my eyes. Then I finally remembered to take it and gave it a little squeeze. I tried to smile, but my burning and numb face was only allowing me to make a grimace.

Crap, what am I doing? I wasn’t supposed to say my name until I was ready to leave. Understanding his tiny hint on how much he wanted to continue his book, I felt pressured. I felt like he had been waiting for me to talk for five minutes. But after feeling the gentle but strong touch of his hand and having his beautiful eyes set on me alone was so relieving and comforting, that I literally forgot how to breathe. I choked and heard some loud laughter and giggles coming from my friends.

He smiled, at me.

While still choking from the shortage of breath, I said awkwardly, “Well, I got to go. It seems like my friends are waiting.”

He laughed out loud softly. It was the most attractive sound I have ever heard. Well, I just ran outside and punched one of my friends in the stomach. It was so screwed up. It went not at all according to the plan.

(This is based on a true plan which is about to happen sometime this week.)