Chapter 11 - Conversation

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Quick note! I wrote this story what feels like forever ago. I had no idea that "Okay" "Okay" was a TFIOS reference, just so you know. I haven't even read the book in truth. Just know it was a ccoincidence I suppose. 

The note exchanging went back and forth, pleasantly. He barely spoke to me unless it was for a lab. It was kind of annoying, I felt this want to simply… be around him.

I’ll be blunt. I’m tired of this. I want either know you, or know why you’re going through my locker. It’s that simple. I’m sick of not getting what this odd relationship is.

I dropped the note in the locker and then headed off to class.

I’ll stop writing you then. I don’t think this is a relationship.

You clearly know what I mean, I don’t mean ‘relationship’ but it’s some odd… something. I don’t want you to just stop. It was a simple question, why can’t we just… talk in person? You can sit with me at lunch today if you want. You have to say hello to me, I don’t know how to talk to you in person. I stutter so badly because I don’t know you well enough.

I put the note away and started off to my last class before lunch. I hope he’d read it. When I got back to my locker the note I wrote was gone, and there wasn’t one in its place. It made me kind of sad. I enjoyed the odd conversations, but I was sick of not knowing who this guy was.

I sat under the tree, eating grapes as I read. I heard him. I looked up, seeing him sitting beside me, reading his own story. We didn’t say a word. It was enough for me though. He sat by me, he didn’t sit far away from me.

That’s what we did every single day for the next two full weeks. He’d sit with me, he’d just sit. It was… nice.

“Do you um,” I fumbled in science class.

“Why are you so scared to talk to me?” he stared, almost sounding frustrated. “I’m not the bad guy.”

‘N-No I don’t t-think you are,” I kept playing with my fingers. “I um, I g-guess Taylor scared me. I d-didn’t know how to talk to p-people to begin with… t-then that happened… I just…”

“Finley?” his voice was commanding, making me look up into his green eyes. “Spit it out.”

“You can talk to me.” I said. ‘I’d l-like to try to talk to you.”

“Why, we don’t like people and we lack social skills.”

“I think we s-should try for that reason.”

“I don’t have friends.”

“M-Me either.”

“I don’t want friends.”

“Me e­­­ither.”

“Then what do you think talk means?”

“Just to m-make conversation? I think it’d b-be good f-for me and m-my st-stutter. Y-You don’t s-scare me like other p-people here, a-as much. Even though you k-keep br-breaking into my l-locker.”

He smirked. “We’ll see what happens?”



I shrugged, at a loss for words. He just shook his head and stacked up our papers, adding the final wording on our lab.

I knew it was random to want to talk to him, but maybe because he was so much like me, lack of friends, social skills, it made him so much less threatening to me. I wasn’t walking into a group that had all these bonds, and inside jokes like I was with Rachel and Taylor. I was just walking in on Harry.

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