Yours sincerely

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 16, 2018

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Submitted: May 16, 2018



I catch sight of her distinctly coloured bag across the sea of students busting between classes. There's a hold up at the stairs that lets me worm my way over to her, I don't speak, she wouldn't tell me anything. She turns her head briefly and I catch her eye for a second, but only for a second. She turns away, feigning ignorance as the sea starts to again, move. I walk to her side, longing to grab her hand, show her that I care, that i'm there, that she can talk to me. I don't really deserve any of that though, what have I done as her friend but joke around and be an ass to everyone. So I speed my pace, match her foot falls, follow her as if we were walking together, leaving all the power in her hands for whether or not she would accept me. She speeds up and I speed up with her, shoulders brushing slightly. She weaves between the wall and a group of boys, cutting me off and I have to change course so I follow behind her so as not to run into them. She's trying to lose me, but being subtle enough as to pretend she just doesn't notice me. I increase my pace to catch up with her, I final push to try and show her that I actually care. She pays no heed.

She turns to continue on to her class or wherever she's been going these days and I know i've lost this time. I turn to finish the walk to my class and I suddenly feel sick. who am I to try and offer my support anyway. An unstable teen with my own anxiety problems who reads too much into a friendship because of a stupid crush. I should just stop, i'm not being a good friend, i'm just trying to force myself onto her problems, just wanting her company to fill a stupid part of me that wants to be more than friends. I don't deserve her, in any compacity, do I? Not that I really have her in any way anyway, she docent seem to be talking to anyone, I wish I knew if she was talking to at least someone, getting help for whatever's plaguing her. I tug at my scarf, tightening it around my neck, the pressure somehow comforting. I remember vaguely her eyes flitting down to it briefly after we locked eyes and recall that it's her scarf, well the scarf she gave to me the twin of the one she wears... used to wear. I experience another wave of nausea as I remember myself smelling it, breathing in her sent, laughing giddily and pulling it all around myself. I shouldn't have this stupid crush, I shouldn't be in love or absolutely stupidly smitten. I reach the classroom, trying to clear my face and body of all emotion. I feel the tug of tears ready to form at the sides of my eyes and my chest begin to tighten. I take a deep breath and school myself again.

"Miss, i'm feeling unwell, may I go to the nurses office?" I'm not feeling up to another three hours of school.

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