P.S. Because I Loved You.

P.S. Because I Loved You [2].

August 2:

Dear Ethan,

Everything in school was boring as usual except for the fact that we now have the first foreign exchange student. His name is Tristan Chandler and by first impression, he looks like a Hollywood actor. He dressed in an ebony leather jacket with matching shoes. His hair was gelled up and it was chocolate brown, each strand in its place. He had hazel eyes but they were piercing to look at. He reminded me of you. The way he talked made me believe for a second that you came back.

His first words in English class were, "Excuse me Miss, may I sit down?" Fancy and odd at the same time. Since the seat beside me was empty and I couldn't think of a quick excuse, I gave him permission. His cologne was so strong that it burned my nostrils. His skin smelled fresh, like aftershave. I could tell that he wanted to ask me something but before he uttered a word, his eyes slid down to my wrists. I forgot to bring a jacket today... my scars were bare and bold. Each cut made hearts so I understood if he was freaked out by them. His stare was long enough to make me squirm in my seat. After for what felt like a decade, he lifted his gaze off my ugly scars and turned away. He then whispered something to the cheerleaders and they all burst out giggling. I could feel my cheeks turning red and I sunk in my seat, lowering myself to the depths of the earth. I pressed the palms of my hands under my butt, put my head down, and prayed for the bell to ring.

Tristan was a strange creature. I know I shouldn't be saying this, but in some ludicrous way, I feel attracted to him. Even though he completely ignores me in the hallway, I find my unconscious mind thinking about him. Ethan, don't hate me for saying this. I think the only reason I have developed some interest on him is because of you. He reminds me of you so much. His voice, his eyes. His presence. 

I miss you Ethan.

Rosalie

P.S. I found a note in my locker. I have it in my hand right now. I've folded it into the tiniest square inches and my fist is clenched around it. Damp and teasing, here is what it says:

4:15 Library. See you soon.

Signed Chandler.