C h a p t e r F i v e .
Did you hear what my friend said about you the other day? She wrote on the blank piece of paper on her notebook, and nudged it toward him.
Yeah.
I'm sorry about what she said.
Okay.
I didn't agree with her.
It's fine.
Are you sure?
Yeah.
I'm sorry.
Okay.
Can you forgive me?
But all those things are true. What your friend said. . . She was right.
I don't think so.
But I do.
You shouldn't think so.
But I do.
God, damn it.
What?
I like you and I don't want you to feel this way about yourself.
Oh.
She looked up at him and saw a flush of red blush invade his pale cheeks.
I'm sorry. That was a bit too forward, wasn't it?
I didn't think so.
Oh. Okay :)
They both looked up and smiled at each other.
Have I told you that I like you?
Only about a couple of times.
Well, I do.
YOU ARE READING
Mondays
Short StoryMondays, to Eleanor, are mute days. And mute days are special days to her. Mute days are the days when she can silently spend countless hours with him. And she really, really, really likes that. ...
