Midori's Gaze

He had noticed and glanced at her for weeks, no, months. And he wasn't even sure how long they had been exchanging glances across the school canteen, across sweaty shoulders in the lift or across the hall during gym period. Time seemed to stretch, to stretch, so that the seconds and minutes ceased to matter when she was around.

She, he was quite certain, was the prettiest girl in the level. She had the sweetest smile he had ever seen... Yes, and he was the handsome Head Prefect.

Desmond was perhaps, the most wonderful guy a girl would ever hope for. Head Prefect, smart, serious and suave. He was quiet and hardworking. Surely, there was no reason why Midori would not fall in love with him.

*****

"Yo, 'sup, Des?" Desmond whirled around to see Damien grin and give him a spine-shattering thump on his back. Vaguely, he thought he caught a glimpse of Midori, over Damien's shoulder. She was wearing her silky black hair in a high ponytail today and carrying her baby blue slingbag across one shoulder in a casual yet elegant poise.

Composing himself with a slight clearing of his throat, Desmond shrugged. "Been playing B-Ball again?" His best friends nodded and wiped the sweat off from his forehead with the back of his hand. There was a comfortable silence between the two boys that morning, for there was nothing to be said, yet, unknown to them, both were in love with the same girl.

*****
That afternoon, Damien seemed to be unusually deep in thought.
"Do... do you like anyone?" Damien asked abruptly, after a series of mind-boggling quadratic equations and intervals of Super Mario on his graphing calculator.

Desmond gave a little start. "Nope," he replied. "Nope," he repeated again, almost as if he were confirming that fact with himself. "Do you?"

Damien sighed and his eyes followed Midori, who, in the distance, was walking with inate grace and poise in the direction of the library. "You do?!" Desmond gasped a little too loudly, then lowered his voice. "Who is it? Tell me, please... I can keep a secret."

"Is that a promise?" Damien was watching Desmond closely. "Fine.I like Midori." "Oh... Okay..." Desmond's heart was sinking quickly into a quicksand of disappointment. He turned back to Practice Question 12-10.

"Do you think she's nice?" Damien shook Desmond's arm slightly. He shrugged simply, for the words were caught in his throat, inhibited by dread and hurt.

Damien would be a nice person to adore from a distance... Tall, tan and suave... A member of the school's badminton team and one of the fastest runners in the whole of Waffles Institution... Desmond thought, feelings of insecurity were now lunging at him, each wave crashing his usually jovial mood.

*****

The glances of Midori and Desmond became more frequent, long after the mid-year exams. Desmond topped the cohort in Physics and Math and even secured a Platinum award for the Singapore Math Olympiad Competition. However, the friendship between him and Damien had been on a steady decline, since that incident.

Damien was becoming more aloof and anti-social. In the meanwhile, his results were sliding drastically. He was underperforming but denied anything being the problem when Desmond asked him out of concern.

The last straw came when Desmond witnessed Damien confronting Midori. She was nearly reduced to tears and Desmond felt his adrenaline level soar.

"But... I like you! Do you like me? Tell me! Tell me the truth!" Damien was yelling and his fingers were closed tightly around Midori's wrist, despite her struggles. "I'm sorry," Midori looked away, tears of physical pain moistening her eyes. "Let me go."

"We can't be just friends!" Damien rasped, ignoring Midori's pleas to let her go.

Desmond's eyes burned with the fire of hatred and rage against his friend. When he could tolerate it no longer, he strode forward and pulled Midori away so sharply that Damien was taken by surprise. "Leave her alone!" He found himself shoving Damien away and taking Midori by her hand.

The next few minutes rushed past him, with a misty recollection of him leading Midori by the hand to the most wonderful place he had ever known, the rooftop of the hostel tower, where there was a panoramic view of the estate.

Midori quitened her sobs and gazed deeply into Desmond's warm and mellow eyes. "Thank you..." She whispered, and added, after a pause,"Desmond."

Desmond felt almost compelled to protect this girl, whom he loved, from anything that would ever hurt her. No words need to be spoken, but both parties knew the feeling was mutual. Even as the events of the day replayed in his mind, and Desmond dimly suspected that he might only be a character in a story, words printed on a paper, he didn't mind and didn't care.

All that possibly mattered, was him holding Midori's hand, in the time that seemed to melt into eternity...