vingt six

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9:08

I'm sitting in French class and I know I look like shit.
My hair is dirty, there are bags under my eyes, and I'm wearing sweats.
It's been three days since I left the letter on the window.
She hasn't taken it, I'm not even sure if she's still here.

What if she moved on?

My heart begins to beat quickly, my eyes start to burn, my head begins to pound, and my blood begins to boil.
I take a deep breath to try and calm myself.

She didn't move on.
I know she didn't.

"Luc," Madame says. She is standing over my desk and everyone is working on something.

I sit up, "yeah?"

"Are you feeling okay? You look sick," her eyebrows are furrowed in concern.

I nod a few times, "yeah, I'm fine."

::

11:13

I walk out to my car and when I climb inside, it's warm from the sun.
I sigh in disappointment.
For some reason I thought she might have been in my car and the air would be cold.

How would she even get in?

I rest my head on the steering wheel and bang it a few times.
I'm so stupid.

I take a deep breath and raise my head.
I don't bother turning the air conditioning on or rolling the windows down.
I'll sit in the heat and deal with the misery.

I arrive at my house and sit in my car for a few minutes before I go inside.
I throw my backpack on my bed and open the curtain.
The absence of the white envelope against the window doesn't go unnoticed.
Just to be sure that it didn't fall, I open the window and look down.
Nothing's there.

She has it.

The depression I felt has now been replaced with panic.
What if she thinks the letter was too much?
Or maybe she'll be creeped out.

Damnit, Harry.
I need to learn how to not over do things.

I leave the window open to let some of the fresh air in.
I flop down on my bed and rub my hands over my face.

I wish this was easier.
I wish I didn't move here.
I wish I never met Rae.

Who am I kidding?

I would never take any of this back.

I wish the circumstances were different.

2:56 :: h.sTempat cerita menjadi hidup. Temukan sekarang