Perfect in My Eyes

My alarm goes off at 6:40 a.m. like it does every morning, Monday through Friday. Like most 17-year-old boys do when they wake up, I yank my phone off the charger and put the bright light of the screen right up next to my face to unlock it with Face ID. I have no notifications, but that isn’t surprising. I don’t really have many friends, just some acquaintances in class and some guys I game with online, but I haven’t ever actually met them in person, so I don’t think they count. It doesn’t bother me too much that I don’t have many friends, when I get to wake up every morning and text Ella.

Anyone can see that she is the prettiest girl at school. She’s always getting awards for her grades at assemblies, and she is captain of both the girls’ soccer team and field hockey team. I can admit that those reasons are what drew me to Ella, but she is so much more than that.

I’ve heard people say that first loves don’t last, but I can’t even fathom my love for Ella not lasting. I’ve gotten to know every detail about her, and it hasn’t chased me away whatsoever.

I snap back to reality, type “good morning, beautiful!”, and hit send. The little swoosh noise indicating that the text was sent to Ella is enough to make me want to get out of bed and start my day. The sooner I get to school, the sooner I will see Ella, which makes it worth going.

I get into the shower for a quick rinse, and I’m out of the shower by 6:49 a.m. I get dressed, put some gel in my hair, shove my laptop and history book in my backpack, and I’m out the door, in my car, and ready to drive to school at 7:00 a.m. on the dot.

As soon as I get in my car, before I even turn the ignition, I text Ella. I remind her to drive safely to school. Whenever I think about how much I like her or how perfect she is, I make sure to text her immediately so that she sees through my actions, and not just my words, how much she means to me. I would say I have those thoughts at a minimum 45 times a day. Some might say that is a lot, but I’ve never heard of a girl complaining about getting too many compliments. It just shows her how much I care.

First and second period always feel like an eternity rather than 50 minute classes. It doesn’t help that I have my two least favorite subjects first thing in the morning. Being forced to do quadratic equations and learn about polynomials at 7:40 in the morning should be considered cruel and unusual punishment. Then second period consists of a French woman yelling at me, in French. Today it is about how I’m not allowed to go to the bathroom unless I ask in French. My bladder is so full that I can barely speak English, let alone French. Luckily, my English abilities return by third period for English class. My favorite is fourth period when I have History, which Ella happens to have with me. She is definitely the smartest in the class, and I am always so impressed with how much she knows.

The rest of the day goes by slowly and uneventfully, as usual. I see Ella between a couple periods, which always gives me a boost of energy to get through the day. I text her a little during the day, but only a few texts each period since we are both in class and phones are prohibited. When I can, I slip my phone out under my desk and send a quick text, but the last thing I want is for a teacher to see me and give me after-school detention. Then I wouldn’t be able to see Ella after school.

I go to Ella’s house almost every day after school. She lives in a nice house with her parents and little brother. The first time I went to her house, I was impressed with how nice it was. I saw the big fireplace in the living room with the comfiest looking couch and perfectly fluffed pillows. The couch sits right next to giant windows that show a view of the pretty forest in the backyard, and that's when I knew I'd rather spend time there than at my own house.

When I get to Ella’s house today, she is sitting on the couch doing some homework. She is so intent on getting good grades, which is another thing I love about her, and she looks beautiful sitting there. She is so focused on her homework that I wouldn’t ever want to distract her, but I want to let her know how happy she makes me and how much she means to me. So, I shoot her a quick text reminding her that she is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen and how much I love her. I hit send, then wait and watch to see if she’ll pick up her phone and see my cute text, even though I am only a few feet away from her. But she doesn’t pick up her phone or look at it. Her eyes stay glued to her laptop.

Since her phone is obviously on silent, I take the opportunity to send some more texts to her, listing all the reasons I love her and admire her. She’ll get to read all the compliments later when she looks at her phone. I pride myself on treating her so well and always giving her words of affirmation. I really don’t think there is anyone in this world that could show her as much love as I do, but it is exactly the amount of love a girl like her deserves.

A couple of hours later, I head back home. I eat dinner, and log into Xbox to game for a while with the guys online, like I do every night. I have my controller in one hand between rounds and my phone in the other so I can send texts to Ella. I don’t want her to think that I don’t have time for her when I am gaming with the guys, so I always put an effort in to check my phone and send her a message before I start a new round.

I head to bed and fall asleep thinking about a future with Ella. Next thing I know, my 6:40 a.m. alarm is beeping loudly from my phone. I grab my phone, turn the alarm off, and I send my “good morning, beautiful!” text to Ella, before getting out of bed. I take my shower, get ready for school, and head out the door at 7:00 a.m. Of course, I send my “drive safely” text to Ella before starting my car and then I drive to school.

School drags on slowly, except for fourth period, just like every other school day. I get through the day excited to go to Ella’s house after school. I get to her house, and she is again sitting on the couch in the pretty living room next to the big window. I can’t help but look at how beautiful she is. I have to let her know.

Just as I did the day before, I keep watching her beautiful face while I type out a text to send her while she sits just a few feet away from me. I am starstruck just looking at her. I type out a sweet message to her:

You have never looked more stunning than you do right now. It seems impossible for you to look so perfect without any effort at all. I want to freeze this image of you sitting there on the couch in your adorable pink t-shirt with your hair in a messy bun, so focused on your homework.

I hit send and look back at Ella sitting there. Her phone is not on silent this time. She looks at her phone milliseconds after I hit send. My heart is pounding in my chest and I can’t wait to see her reaction to my adoring message.

Instead of being flattered by my message, I see her look down at her pink t-shirt, then reach her hand up and touch her hair, which is in the messy bun, and I hear her scream, in an ear-piercing shrill voice, “DAD, COME HERE NOW!”.

What is going on?

I see Ella looking around frantically out of the big windows next to the couch, while almost curling into a ball, and I see her dad barreling down the stairs that lead to the living room.

I reread my text in a panic to see what could’ve gone wrong or caused her to react so absurdly to my compliments.

Fuck. Ella wasn’t wearing a pink t-shirt at school today, and her hair was curled and down, not in a bun. She must’ve put her hair up and changed into comfy clothes when she got home.

My cover is blown. How would anyone know what she is doing and wearing unless they are watching her? I’m so stupid. I was so caught up in her beauty that I slipped up and outed myself.

I hear the back door open and a booming voice, which must be Ella’s dad, screaming, “I KNOW YOU’RE OUT HERE SOMEWHERE AND I’LL FIND YOU, WHOEVER YOU ARE. IT WAS ONE THING WHEN YOU WERE SENDING HUNDREDS OF TEXTS A DAY TO MY DAUGHTER FROM AN ANONYMOUS PHONE NUMBER, BUT NOW YOU’RE SHOWING UP HERE AND WATCHING HER THROUGH OUR WINDOWS? WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, I SWEAR…swear it will be the last …”

His blaring voice slowly fades away as I get further away from the big windows that I have spent months secretly admiring Ella through, and get deeper into the woods, away from Ella’s house.