I saw the cut scars up her arms when she pushed up her sleeves. She was sitting alone at a table, while I sat with my friends. I continued to stare at her arms, she glanced at me, and looked down uncertainly. I didn't know her, and she barely knew me. I was just another jock to her, but she wasn't another person to me. I was going to help her.
I was going to help her.
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What's up, Buttercup?
Короткий рассказ"What's up, Buttercup?" "Who the heck are you?" "I'm probably the guy of your dreams, and the guy that's going to get you through your depression. " ~ ~ ~ A mystery jock, a depressed girl, and a unexpected romance. ~ ~ ~ "Remember what I said...
