The Opposition

Chapter 20: Carter

Fairridge Honours English Assignment: Third Semester

Due: March 10.

Instructions: Write a confession. To anyone. About anything. Any format. Minimum 300 words.

Status: Incomplete.

Dear Sadie Jones,

It appears that I am a liar. When I first met you–that fond day that you fixed my tie–I would always recount my heart quickly beating. That wasn't the case. My heart felt as if it would explode. Because your soft hands were on my chest (even through the fabric I knew that they would be soft, and when I finally held your hand I was glad that my theory proved true). Because your eyes were trained on me, and I knew that I would be counting green, gold, and brown for a very long time. Because I was falling–crashing– for you so fast that I didn't know what to do. Well, I've hit the ground and I'm patiently waiting for your hand to reach out to mine to pull me back up. I'm still waiting.

Since the the first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that I had to have you. You already had me, and I thought it only fair. The first thing I ever found out about you–other than the fact that you're so beautiful that a fourteen year old boy was driven insane by your piercing eyes and bright smile–was that you were a genius. You had a genius sister and you had taken after her.

Finding out that I would get to start the day with you in English was the most exciting thing to happen to me at Fairridge. I was eager to catch your attention. With every raise of your hand, I grew more in awe of you and more disappointed in myself. Oh, to just catch your attention. And that I did.

I spent hours, days, maybe even months on that creative writing piece. Winning that contest would surely make you as infatuated with me as I was with you. I thought you would be impressed. It appears that my brain didn't account for your competitive spirit. One I loved and ached for just as much as your kindness. For as long as your lips were moving and your eyes were on me, I didn't care what words were leaving your mouth.

Opening the school paper and reading my story that received first place, you scoffed. "This bland garbage about high school beat my fantastical story with fully developed world building?" You asked. "Who the hell even is Carter Conners?"

My name sounded so pleasant on your lips, even as a sneer. I'm secretly glad that, after I bested you once more, you switched to "Conners." I didn't know how I would deal with hearing my name rolling off the tip of your tongue as if I was yours. Especially, when you didn't even know just how much of a hold you had on me.

For the past three years, I've done everything to hate you, Sadie Jones. And I do. I hate that you best me. I hate how you tease me, your lips never straying away from my ear. I hate how you seem so repulsed by me. I hate that I've absorbed your competitiveness and still want to beat you. Your clever jabs are the best reward I could ever receive. I crave them. But, most of all, I hate what you're doing to me.

You unravel me, Sadie Jones. I am splitting at the seams, and, until I am filled by your love, I fear that I can't be sewn back together.

Unfortunately, not yours,

Carter Conners.

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A/N

Um...

I'm just going to–

I'm just going to leave this here.