Minor Difference

Chapter 47: imy

Violet

It's been a couple days since the incident with Jayde that left me devastated to say the least. As soon as I arrived home that day, I darted into my room. Slamming and locking the door behind me, hoping that it would somehow block out Jayde's harsh words.

But like I mentioned they're words. Not fists or feet that I could possibly protect myself against. They are words and as soon as they escaped her lips, they were stuck to me forever. Brutalizing my brain. What's worse it that it's all true. I WAS making him the black sheep. I was making him a disappointment. We weren't made for each other.

Tears ran down my face that entire day. Nothing having the power to make it stop. Not even sleep.

My meltdown ceased the next day. I mean, I still felt the words. They still pained me. But I didn't let that show. I had to continue to act as normal as I could. And so, I did.

I went to school as normal. Attended class as normal. Spoke to Dylan as normal. I would have also spoken to Greyson as normal, but any chance I had, I felt compelled to just leave. Jayde's words seeping back into my mind whenever I would catch a glimpse of Grey's chiseled face.

Its not natural.

We don't belong.

I'm making him the disappointment.

Even during our shared class. I sat in my regular seat, Greyson sitting in the one next to me, immediately asking if I was okay. Something seemed off he added.

Steady facing the front of the class, Trying my hardest to avoid looking his way. I smile softly and nod my head which appeared to get him off my case for a little while.

Almost everyday has been this way.

However, Today is Saturday, finally. Which gives me a break from my consistent lying.

I lie underneath my covers. Unmoved from when i woke up earlier this morning. When my phone buzzes, reviving me from my thoughts.

Its Dylan

Dyl: You still down to help my get-together?

Me: Oh...Yeah Ig

Dyl: Great :) come over at 4

I sigh. Maybe this get-together will help ease me.

Before locking my phone, I set an alarm for 3:00 to notify when i should start getting ready as it was already 2:30.

I click my phone off and laying it screen first flat on my comforter. I sit up and decide to pass the time by writing some poems for once.

I emerge from my marshmallow bed, stalking my way to my vintage wooden desk, that was a hand me down from my grandmother. I take a seat, reaching for the loose leaf paper and mechanical pencil.

Times that i'm finally allowed to be in my thoughts, are when I actually have the motivation to write poems. I wrack my brain trying to find a topic to write about, but when I get it I start writing it down immediately.

I am one stanza deep when I hear a heavy tapping at my window, causing me to jump, the pencil in my hand soaring through the air.

What the hell could that be?

Slowly, I push the chair back, lifting my body off of it to prevent the loud screeching sound against the floor. I leave my seat and practically crawl to the window. Cautiously trying to inspect the source of the sound. My heart thumps in my chest when I finally reach my window.

The only thing that could be seen was a person's torso, revealing nascar graphic tee that was familiar. I get closer to the window as the person crouches down allowing themselves to be in frame.