She’s horrible, I can’t stand to look at her.

Everyday in class I’m forced to glance at her; she sits right across from me.

Her glaring, bold eyes pierce me whenever I seem to look at her.

She looks mean, disgusted, and raging.

How could someone always be in such a bad mood?

And her hair, ugh, her hair! The sun shines it a golden auburn color! I hate it!

Sometimes her soft lips perk into a smile?

It’s hideous!

And, oh, how I hate when she talks in class. Her voice is rocky, like that of rapids on a thrashing river.

I hate it!

I hate her!

“Alright, class today you will be in partners to discuss the poems you have written,” Mrs. Perch says. “Alex and Lavinia, you’ll be partners.”

At the sound of our names together, I feel the urge to run.

Lavinia! I’m with the very girl I despise!

Lavinia softly walks towards me, with her soft smile at play.

Ugh.

She gently sits next to me and begins with the words, “Okay, here is my poem.” She hands me the paper. I hand her mine.

Silently we read each poem, but I can’t seem to focus, she is so close to me. I can smell roses and lavender.

I read her poem, it’s beautiful, just like her—

Wait.

“Your poem, Alex, is very nice,” she starts. “I like the way it flows.”

I urge her to say more, just so I can listen to her speak.

“And your rhythm is enhancing.”

I nod, and look at her for once. She is nothing but beauty, how could I ever accuse her of ugliness. And her voice and composure is sweet, she’s not angry.

“I- your poem is impeccable and perfect,” I stutter.

She smiles.

“Lavinia?”

“Yes?”

“You’re way different than I thought.” I confess.

Her smile droops. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No no no, not in a bad way. I-I always thought you hated me with the way you looked at me sometimes.”

Now she laughs. “Ah, I understand. Yeah, I’m never mad, really, it’s just everytime you glance at me, you look like you’re in a haze.”

She laughs more.

A haze?

I laugh with her.

Lavinia is way more than I every thought.