Boys Must Really Like Her

Soraya Grade 10

At first, you think nothing of her. Her eyes are twinkling as she introduces herself and you think to yourself,

Boys must really like her.

The drawings in her sketchbook jump to life, some staring at you with sad eyes and others vibrant and bright, and you wonder how she breathes life into them.

Boys must really like her.

Summer day with overcast clouds hang over a bleak landscape as the two of you sit by the sea, the chilling air in your faces. To you, she is the only thing that isn’t grey and cold.

Boys must really like her.

She has pink lips that seem so soft, turning up at the corners in a subtle grin.

Her cheeks are dusted pink layered with a spray of freckles like the constellations in the sky.

Boys must really like her.

Her hair is light cotton candy pink and she laughs full and deep, completely unapologetic in her demeanour. Her smile is contagious, somewhat like the plague.

Boys must really like her.

Her voice is powerful, drowning out all others as she lets the sweet melody loose from her pink lips. You could sit and listen to her sing for hours on end, drinking in her voice, and never be satisfied.

Boys must really like her.

The way her eyes light up when she stares at him is something one reads about only in books. He’s really lucky to have his fingers intertwined with hers.

Boys really like her.

The deep ugly feeling that rests in one’s chest when he’s with her refuses to go away. Like a thorn in one’s side. The twinkling eyes are not looking at you, but another.

You really like her.

You want those cheeks to turn even pinker, brightening to red as she speaks with you, and feel her pale hand with its painted nails intertwined with yours.

You really like her.

But you’re not a boy.