I cried enough to fill three oceans my seventh grade year. My story is like other girls, yet unique in the most twisted ways.
We start a while back in my seventh grade year sitting in my history class, last period with only 20 minutes left. The agony of hearing the bell and getting to go home was very strong and I started to bite the eraser on my mechanical pencil. My best friend, Allie, was sitting next to me going on and on about the boy she had just broken up with. His name being Charlie. I decided it would be nice to ask her more information about him and try to get interested so I could comfort her.
"What's he look like, I don't think I have ever seen him. Does he even go here?" I asked her this with actual concern being she acted like she didn't see him often at all.
"Yeah he goes here. He's about 5'2 he's got dirty blonde hair. I think you've seen him with me before," she brushed her hair behind her ear, " here I'll show you a picture of him from his Instagram."
She pulled out her phone and turned the screen towards me. I couldn't fathom what I was feeling, his eyes, his smile. I turned to her, "would you mind if I talked to him?"
She looked back at me, "yeah, I don't care, I didn't really like him anyways if I'm honest."
