Judged - Mel Afoa

When I was 10, mum told me to never judge a book by it's cover.

I only laughed and asked why any human will do such thing.

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I sat alone, sitting in the shade of a big tent fold, covering me from the bright sunlight. Not only was it blocking me from the sun, but also the beautiful breeze that dance on the outside of the tent. I was at the swimming pools, unfortunately not swimming due to my ' time of the month' problem. Trees surrounded me, waving in the summer breeze, green and light brown covering nearly the whole grounds of the pool. The pool itself was but a delicious shade of baby blue, the colour a twin of the sky blanket above. Clouds were evident in the sky, bundled together to form a sea of white. A picturesque scene of nature surrounded me, and peace and quiet danced in my mind.

I gazed at the big pool that covered two mansion grounds. There were plenty of people splashing and swimming within the blue water. It was nice to see contentment and peace within everyone's expressions. Kids were laughing and bombing into the pool. Adults were sunbaking and smiling as the sunlight cooled their exposed bodies. It was very peaceful, exotic, watching others having fun and using the holidays effectively.

I noticed a couple in the pool, a few metres away from the rest. They were secluded, in their own world. Being a girl, I noticed the boy first. They boy looked about my age, but sort of younger in features. Handsome he was, brown hair that shone in the sun as golden brown, and eyes the colour of murky silver. His body was covered in muscles, his abs imitating Ashton Kutcher's. He looked perfect, a model from a magazine. It was hard to take my eyes off his body, as it looked heavenly in the water.

I then looked at his love. I didn't expect what I saw.

She was not the kind most girls admired. Her hair was a long bush of black. She had dark eyes, as if a dangerous vampire in hiding. She was large, and scars were like tattoos all over her body. She was different, not a single trace of make-up on her face. She was plain, but somehow managed to ignore intimidation.

I wondered how she felt, how she felt when people like me judged her. She did look at all like a model or princess. She looked like the servant. And yet, she was in the arms of the most handsome teenager at the pool. I had to give her credit, not because she was in the arms of the hottest guy there, ( even hotter than the many muscular lifeguards around ) but because I knew she ignored hate and judgements from others, after looking around and seeing many other girls directing scornful looks in her directions.

Looking up at the blue blanket above, I look at the clouds with wonder. A friend of mine came over, sore from her so called 'Lap swimming'.

" Oh my goodness", she said, collasping onto the soft grass I was perched on. She gazed towards the strange couple with jealousy. " Look at that fat chick with the stunner, like what the fuck?".

" Maybe it was love", I muttered, still pondering the evolution of love.

" She looks like she squashed all the love out of him", she replied, eyes still following the couple who were holding tightly to one another, eyes gazing at each other, and only for one another. I didn't reply, and just looked on at the couple with resignation. The boy had now leaned forward, and planted a soft, gentle kiss on the girl's lips. She was smiling, full of contentment and love. I knew then what mum meant. Love doesn't take form in perfection, just in all shapes and sizes, no matter how hard it is to find.