The bell rings and other students run out of doors to classrooms.It is a Friday afternoon in a small town in North Dakota. She does not
look at him, though it is not beucase she does not want to. She knows not how to. She stands with her back to some lockers and looks at the floor. He stands infront of her staring at the top of her
head with his hands in his pockets.As she clutches her books she gives him a quick glance. She tries to look away but the worry in his brilliant green eyes holds her gaze. By the time she speaks,
the hallway is empty.
She is confused for a moment but then relizes what he means. She bends down and places her books on the floor. As she
stands, she rolls up the left sleeve of her baby blue sweater to shamfully reveal her wrist and forarm. At first he does not look, but when he does, he has to blink through tears. She starts to
replace her sleeve but he stops her by taking her wrist into his hand. He rubs his thumb over her cuts lightly. She winces at his rough, well worked hands. She tries to focus on one of the lame,
blue and grey school hallway tiles. Unnounced, he pulls her closer to him. She is wrapped up in the security and wramth of his familar arms.
He mumbles her name into her soft, velvety hair. Slowly and unsurely she lifts her arms to wrap them around his waist.She holds him as tightly as
he holds her.She cries silent tears and whispers:
"I'm so sorry, Daren..."
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