🌹Rose #1

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AN: Italics font is the reflection, normal font is present event. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, be aware of the dates.... Amelia POV is written for the past and the 3rd POV is for how the past and present connect and differ. There will ONLY be 9🌹Gus POVS (one being this one) and it will scatter throughout specific points in the story.

September 3rd 2017, 20 Year old Gus Reflects back to December 15th 2003.

As young as we were, I knew the moment she waved— I found someone special. At the time I didn't think that I would know her this long—and despite the circumstances, we always found a way back to each other. But in the process, I'm sure we made each other... sad, hurt, scared... multiple times, and there were also times we laughed— loved, learned, and understood why we did what we did... and it always outweighed the worst we've ever done or said. I think when she told me we couldn't be friends (because her mom said I was doomed for hell), it might've been the second worst thing she ever said to me— But I too, had my own faults.

Shoving her at the playground— wasn't the first or last time... I'd done it another hundred times (not literally but using that expression, I'm sure you know what I mean.) And Chris... or formerly known back then or the name I use on occasion—Amelia never said anything, she allowed it. She welcomed it, unknowingly. But when I do find myself shoving the person I love, it always gave a silence between us.

I remember when I came back from my suspension, there wasn't a choice we had— she stayed on the bench— putting a puzzle together with the teacher she always sat with. Sometimes, I'd catch her glancing and it would stop whatever I'm doing— wether it was in the middle of chasing the girls from my class or pushing Emma on the swing— that's when I fought the urge to smile or wave knowing that the teachers and her mom didn't want us near each other. Even my mom reminded me each morning before school, and looking back... it surprises me that I listened.

But when it actually came down to December 15th (the "last day" I saw Amelia) there was a Christmas program— and that night... I was determined to give her what she wanted, what she needed... I remember staying up the night before— looking for it, and
when I did recall it's location (throwing it out of anger, because of the frustrating fact that we couldn't be friends) —I crawled to the far corner of my bed, taking it's shape into my hand and went for the outlet.
And as the world around me hugged and lingered in 2 AM's complete darkness— the energy needed to expose Scooby Doo's face came into light. The act of that... just shows how much I cared for her, it's like what seven year old does that? Especially, for a boy like me... who's destine to be in hell? Who stayed up, thinking of a way to approach her without trying to get caught... Who gave up his own nightlight for a girl, he barely knew?

I remember carrying in the cookies my mom made and seeing Amelia standing with her mom. She had a red dress on and her shoulder to elbow strap was gone, her arm still had the cast but it dangled to the side, freely. Seeing that, evidently told me that her arm was recovering and I would like to think that it assured me that she'll be okay— long after she leaves Lindell. The older kids preformed and after, came the Father and Daughter dance, she was standing off to the side watching— I remember seeing the expression on her face.

Her mom wasn't in sight and just as I was about to get from my chair to approach her, she dashed to an empty table at the far back of the gym, and crawled under— disappearing behind the white table cloth. If I knew (back then) what I know now, I'd say that would be the moment I started to love her... because not a second later I followed, peering around before diving under.

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