Confessions From Cupid part 1

His skin and hair are dark, his body lean and masculine.  Everyday he arrives at school in a classical plaid sweater, Irish hat, and khaki pants.  Occasionally the pants are black or he wears a jacket over the sweater, but he always looks like he stepped out of a twentieth century British golf tournament.  Of all the people I know he's the only one I would be thoroughly shocked to see in jeans and a t-shirt.  Despite all this, he has a sort of rugged handsomeness.  Strangest of all, though, has got to be his smile.  It's so... contrasting.  His lips part ever so slightly, and his eyes gaze into some unseen world.  He looks as you might expect a retarded child to look, smiling with simplicity and contentment, unaware of social edginess. Almost indecently personal, as if you're seeing something too honest to be true.