263Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1bx5dW4PsA
My senior year in high school and I still have notes from anonymous admirers kept in my locker. I mean, I thought after junior year no one cares about you anymore because you are old and about to leave anyways. More than once a day I'd get a folded paper in my locker. I'd ask my friend, Blake, who was supposedly an expert in those aspects, and what he says was simple, too simple for someone called an expert;
"It's normal Cole, this is the time your locker should get scrambled up with notes. Either from admirers, because you're too gorgeous and they want a piece of you, or from haters or that one person you bumped past in the hall and didn't apologize."
I'd shake my head and ask. "Do you get any?"
He'd look at me and hiss. "I thought I was giving you my brand of expertise, when did this become an interview on my life?"
Throughout the time, I'd make nothing of it. Read through it, laugh at what was written in it, and take it home to keep in a box I got, to store all the letters, it just felt wrong throwing them away. I never thought anything of it, never tried to find the person writing them, until one day when I got an entire notebook in my locker.
A whole notebook of a letter. Someone took their time to write this and drop it off in my locker. What was it about? I was curious and wanted to read it at that moment. I realized that it had to be someone I know, someone who had the combination to my locker because, unlike the papers, the notebook won't pass through the little opening at the bottom of the locker. Who was it? And I got my answer immediately after I opened the book, which was fifteen, sixteen, or seventeen seconds ago.
I waited, and went through my day today, thinking about what the person had written in their letter, what word they used to address me. Why did they send an entire letter? I couldn't concentrate in class as I was eager for the whole day to end so I could get back home. Which it did, and I opened the book.
From the first page, I knew who it was who had my combination, the one who took their time to write all this for me. On that first page, it was written boldly and in black ink:
"12 things I loved about you."
The words were very vivid. I had no problems reading what was written on it. It was written with calmness and precision. It belonged to none other than my ex-girlfriend, Karen Heyford.
She designed the page with tiny red hearts all around. And then at the bottom right corner, she wrote:
"With very snippet of love, Karen."
I was wondering and a little bit scared as to why my ex-girlfriend would take the time and effort to write about things she liked about me.
she was leaving the country with her parents, they wanted to start a new, so they flew out of the country. At least that's what I tell myself to make me feel better. After she left I was lost and confused and I very much well understood why she left at the same time. It's been two weeks, so it has to be one of her friends that dropped the notebook. I loved her.
I closed the book immediately and quickly head down to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, I knew I was going to need it. I dropped the glass of water on the nightstand and lay on the bed with the book in my hands. It was just around 5:30 pm and the sun was starting to disappear in the clouds that were forming in the sky. And a cold breeze blew the curtains of my window. I took a deep breath and opened to the next page...
The way you looked.
I remembered stepping into the class on my first day at Epic High. It was so much to take in. The teacher, Mr. James, had given me the room to greet and introduce myself to everyone. I was so shy and nervous. I choked on my breath before I could even utter a single word. Everyone in the class had their eyes peeling into my skin that day.
"Karen Heyford," I managed to say.
They were all looking at me without averting their eyes for a second. Some might not have noticed it, but I was shaking, shaking so much. Everyone was watching, everyone but you.
You had your head face down on your book, writing down on it as if you wanted to finish what you were doing before I was finished with my introduction. I'm sure it was something very important.
I remember it now. Just last night of that day, I had promised my younger sister, Abigail, I'd draw her a picture of her favorite artist, Lisa if she fell asleep. I promised to show it to her when I returned from school. And that class was the last before I returned from school.
What could you have been doing that you didn't even take a second to glance at me? I was curious. And guess what Cole Anderson, I never found out what you were doing, I never asked. I guess I wasn't curious enough.
Ouch. I felt a pinch in my heart. Like someone had poked a pin in it. When I started reading this, I thought, no, I was hoping she was going to address me with a different word, something like sweetie, honey, or darling, something affectionate. But she said my full name bluntly, and it felt cold.
I continue reading.
I sat on a chair, three rows behind you to the left window. It was far, it was too far for me to get a glimpse of what you were doing. You closed the book shut and slipped it into your bag, letting out a soft sigh that I can still hear. Then you turned to the side to look through the window. I finally saw your face, even though it was just your side face, I saw it. You were intriguing from where I sat.
The sun reflected on your light skin. I could see the tiny beard hair that was starting to pop out of your face. And I'm sure by now it has become much. Wish I would have been able to see it. I wished the world would just freeze so that I could touch it with my finger and feel your skin. Was it soft? I didn't know then.
No Karen, they still haven't grown. Those stubborn beards you loved are still the same way when you first saw me.
You had dark blue eyes which glittered every time you blinked. It was beautiful, you were beautiful Cole. I could stare at those eyes of yours all day and still wouldn't get enough of it.
I could feel what she felt that day through these words. It made me wonder what she is doing at this moment in life. Does she know I have received the book and will be reading it now? Should I call her and talk? I probably shouldn't.
I sighed and turned back to the book.
The way your nose was. Set in absolute perfection. I'm sure I was staring at you for you long because I didn't know that the person behind me had been trying to tell me that I dropped a pen. Cole, you were the most beautiful thing I had seen all day, no, my whole life.
This is too many praises, if this is how the entire book went on, then I don't think I'd be able to read it.
Have you ever looked in the mirror Cole? Did you ever think you were silently killing me with the way you did your hair? Probably not, how'd you know, you probably just wanted to look good, but you were killing me. My first day and I was already dying.
No, your hair wasn't messy. I don't know what is wrong with those girls who are dying of messy hair. You my dear, you had your black hair, neatly done, brushed back.
A smile formed on my lips as I read those lines. Not because of anything but because she called me "dear". God, I'm such an idiot.
Then the class was over and you quickly stood up with your backpack to leave. At first, I thought something was going on at home, or that you didn't have any friends. But that's not the case. You had everyone as your friend and just needed this time alone. I never asked. I hate myself for that, I wish I had asked.
I loved the way you looked, Cole. Just staring at you, gave me butterflies in my stomach. You didn't even look at me that day.
I'm sorry Karen. I'm a fool. She did nothing wrong, it was all my fault that we are in this mess. She wanted to stay, she told me she was going to compel her parents to let her stay so that she can be with me. But I didn't want her to stay away from her parent. She got mad and decided to leave with them.
That is what I keep telling myself to feel better.
End of chapter.
