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It was my first day at Peabody High School and so far so good. However, this next period was a little tricky. A “directive” was set in my heart to get to the next class as quickly as possible. I rushed up or down some stairs, then around a corner or so where I saw the door wide open to the class. I crept slowly looking at the classroom number and slightly shadowy inside. There might have been a few bulbs purposely removed. Good for me because of my sensitivities to florescent lights. No one was inside. Not even the teacher. I’d later come to realize he was more than likely in the bathroom taking a swig from his flask.

I went to the rear of the class and sat on a table, feet on a chair. I posted directly facing the door so I can see all who entered the class. The “directive” also had a message that I’d meet “someone of great importance”. I quietly watched all who walked through the door. The first few people didn’t seem remarkable. Nothing wrong with them. I didn’t feel anything either.

Then a fair-skinned girl came through the door and my eyes widened. She was beautiful. Most of the evident beauty sat comfortably in the notion that fair-skinned girls were prettiest in the “black spectrum”… but even outside of that culture of colorism, she was still beautiful. My lips formed a quiet, “wow”. She then dipped out my line of sight… which still remained useful for finding the person I was to meet. As beautiful as she was, I wasn’t convinced that she was who I’d be waiting for.

I wasn’t even sure it had to do with a girl. I didn’t fully understand the “directive”. It was simply someone of great importance. It could be the teacher.

Immediately following the fair-skinned girl was this brown-skinned girl with a head full of curly “poofy” hair. She had big eyes and high cheek bones. When her head tilted upright, her eyes met mine and I felt a jolt. We connected. Then a voice I heard loud and clear in my head said, “that’s the girl you will marry!”. It was deep in a typical “god like” voice, slightly reminiscent of the Wizard of Oz behind the curtain.

Everything slowed down as I watched her “bop” to a section of the class. Every bounce of her hair looked like the hairs on an animated character. More lively than the natural world. I saw the expansion and compression of each visible curl with every step. When she smiled a set of pearly-whites, covered in braces, peaked out of her satin lips. She was bucktooth and it was absolutely a plus. She was confident. Maybe even cocky, and it made her wildly attractive. Remember, she had bucked teeth. She was a something out of a comic book yet to be written. How dare she be so damned bold?

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