Care For Me ✔️

13

L I L Y

When I reach my locker, Leo is already waiting for me. He hooks his hands under the straps of his backpack and gives me a wide grin, one that matches my own.

"Hey," he falls into step with me. "How was English?"

"Fun, we got to write our own poems for the w-whole lesson."

"That's cool," he hums. "You like writing?"

"Yeah," I decide. It's the first time I've ever gotten to write something that's my own, rather than copying down work from the white board. "It's better t-than set work."

He nods, "Creative freedom is what my English teacher calls it."

"Exactly."

"Do you have your poem with you? I'd love to read it, if that's okay with you obviously."

"Uh, n-no," I lie, feeling the tips of my ears warmth. "Mr Matthews kept it."

"Ah, that makes sense." He pulls his backpack strap away from one shoulder, twisting his bag to his chest before pulling out a sheet of paper covered in words and doodles. "This is my poem I had to write for class last week. You can read it if you want?"

"Really?" I ask, my hands slowly reaching for the paper. I'd love to read his work, his words. If it was anything like my poem, maybe it will help me get to know Leo better.

"Really really," he says softly, shaking the sheet a little in front of my outstretched hands. "Take it. You can read it during detention to pass the time, unless you've got homework you wanna do."

"No, no homework." I gently accept the poem, holding it in my hands like it's the Mona Lisa. "I want to read this."

Leo smiles. "Cool."

I follow him as he leads us to the detention class room. We head in and take our seats, luckily for me, and for Leo, our Math teacher isn't the one holding detention today. Apparently, according to the girl at the front of the class, he got called away on an emergency. So the receptionist, Mrs Reeves, is the one covering for him this afternoon.

"Good afternoon, little troublemakers," Mrs Reeves greets. A large smile pulls at her lips as she takes us all in, it's almost cheeky with the way her eyes playfully narrow. She's wearing a red dress that flows at the skirt, matching her shoulder length auburn hair so well.

"Feel free to do some homework for the next half hour. I'll be in and out to check up on you kids, but I've got some work of my own to do at the front desk. Just give me a holler if you need me. And please, please behave." She tells us, giving a pointed look before leaving the class.

I take the time to run my eyes over the room. There's not a lot of kids here, only me, Leo and three other students, all of which look older than us by a few years. I'm assuming they're in freshman or sophomore year.

I read over Leo's poem, in awe at his words and how it almost feels like I'm reading a horror novel. I ask what it's about, he tells me Lord Of The Rings. I tell him I've never read it before, and he offers to bring in the first book for me to read tomorrow. I smile and thank him endlessly, to which he laughs and says anytime.