Close Your Eyes

two; ❝it doesn't matter❞

Aurora's POV 

I wonder if she felt that instant connection too.

When I saw her walk into class, I immediately knew that I had to talk to her. She's beautiful, and I cannot not admit it. So, I introduced myself to her and everything was like magic. Whether it's just a friendship or something more, I can't decide.

She was giving mixed signals, with exaggerated compliments and then switching over to monotone words covered by layers of boredom.

She seems complicated, but I don't mind complicated. I might know a thing or two about what it's like to be a bag of mixed emotions, so this isn't uncharted territory.

When she asked about why I moved here though, I couldn't helped but temporarily shut down.

I can't exactly tell her why I moved here since, that too, is complicated. Telling her would require admitting that my dad left my mom when he found out about my sexuality.

I can't always be too sure if she'll be okay with me being gay, since I was always left with my mouth hanging when each of my old friends at home abandoned me when the rumors went flying around town.

"She's not that type of person to judge though," I remind myself.

I'm not completely convinced though, especially since we barely met.

Would it be insane to say that I do feel some sense of trust toward her despite that? That doesn't mean I'll tell her about it yet though. I've been known to act suddenly without much thought, and I can't make the same mistakes again.

I turn my attention to my closet, a place where I fondly remember spending many years in before I was forced out of it.

Here, my wardrobe is a lot smaller than it was at my old house, but it makes sense. When my father decreased the number of family members I have, he also decreased the number of funds that my mom had available.

So, we had to move to a place that was more affordable. That meant moving across state lines to a tiny home in a new town with new people. We had to abandon the town that I grew up in, but I don't necessarily mind it. Change can be nice.

Sometimes.

I put on blue denim jeans, and a simple white v-neck with my white converse. I can't resist wrapping a plaid shirt around my waist, and I simply throw my hair up into a messy ponytail after that.

I grab my worn out pink backpack that's resting on my bed, and I quickly head over to the kitchen. With a shiny red apple in my hands and my phone in the other, I'm ready to leave.

I don't have the time for a real breakfast, and that's my own fault for not waking up earlier. I know that my mom will yell at me later for that, since she's always going on and on about getting the proper nutrients that humans need. It's obviously reasonable, but I don't always have enough time to do so.

I head outside to my red car that's probably older than I am, and I drive to school while eating my apple at the constant stop signs on the way there.

When I arrive at the new brick building that's called a school, I search for my next class.

I end up asking a tough security guard who looks like he would rather be anywhere else than here about my next class. He helps me though, and in the end, I finally find the brown door to my next class.

I enter the classroom, and try to get used to the new surroundings. Bright lights on the low ceiling highlight everything in the room, from the tired students to the class clown standing in front of the room. Bookshelves cover all of the walls as if this were the library, rather than just another classroom. Books are thrown around everywhere and literature related posters cover the few empty spaces on the walls. Some students look bored while others are eagerly reading books that the teacher must have assigned.