May 7th
Mom’s always tells me I listen to my music way too loud – that I might as well not have earphones in since everyone else can hear it. I guess she’s right because as Birdie walks by me in the hallway, she stops dead in her tracks, eyes widening.
“That song,” she gasps, as I yank out an earphone. “I know that song!”
“Really?”
“I thought I was the only one on the planet who knew that song.” She flicks aside a strand of her hair. She’s pretty, so pretty. I can’t believe she doesn’t have a guy hanging off of her. Where are her friends?
We’re in the same English class and I watch her flit in and flit out, all alone.
“So did I.”
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CITEȘTI
little, little birdie
Ficțiune adolescențiA story about a lonely girl and a boy that can't write poetry.