First Love

The following term, some new students joined St Michael’s School. They were the first batch of A-level students, and there was much excitement among the girls at the prospect of new boys to drool over.

One of the newly appointed prefects caught my eye. He was tall and wiry, with a wispy moustache that sat right under his Grecian nose, and his eyes were a light shade of amber. His swagger suggested a subdued confidence, and there was something about the way he turned and looked at me, the intensity of his gaze, that made me feel self-conscious, yet flattered. For the next few weeks all I could think about were his eyes and how I really wanted to know his name.