One moment in time

With thick waves of ebony hair and a voice as smooth as warm honey it was difficult to see why anyone wouldn't fancy Carson Nicoll, but Astrid didn't. Whilst other girls swooned and followed him around every lunch time like love-struck zombies, Astrid sat in the locker room eating her ham sandwiches. She tended to avoid him, she didn't want to get sucked into the swirling vortex of sexual tension that seemed to encircle him. So she averted his gaze, paid no attention when he spoke in class, walked the other way if walked towards her, and gave him a wide berth in the school yard. Half the time though the swarm of girls with fluttering eyelashes put enough distance between them to render her attempts as pointless.
From her distant vantage point she could chuckle as girls made futile attempts to attract his attention with rising hemlines and blood-red pouts. But his eye would not be turned.
When the nip of winter was welcomed with posters advertising the Christmas Dance the race to net the 'new' hunk cranked up into high gear. With competition high, the battlelines were drawn. One by one the girls retreated to the comfort of toilet cubicles with their suitcase sized school bags containing an arsenal of decorative weaponry designed to beguile the most asexual of boys. But whilst they trowelled their faces with orange goo and marinaded their skin in cheap perfume that could easily strip paint, Astrid sat quietly with a book in one hand and a Granny Smith in the other. She watched as they paraded like cattle in front of Carson. Astrid couldn't help but snigger. He was more interested in his football or chatting with his friends to notice them flicking their hair and draping themselves over benches in front of the footy pitch. But although Astrid was sure, from her observations, that he had not been bewitched by anyone, his eye had been drawn.
The rainbow of girls around him was dim in comparision to the brilliant beacon of beauty he struggled to attract the attention of. She was clumsy, for sure, always dropping her books, or walking into doors, walls or any obstruction in front of her but that made her all the more dazzling to him. She had an identity all of her own, a uniqueness that set her apart from the gaggle of girls he couldn't get rid of. All he wanted was a look, a glance, but whenever he saw her she seemed to turn away.
One afternoon a chance presented itself. She was sat on the steps outside the school, with her coat buttoned tight and her gloved hands clutching a book. As he walked towards her dodging, girl after girl, she looked up and locked eyes with him. The first time.