What do I want?
One question. Over and over in her head, remembering the letters that build his email address like a hymn, singing across her conscious constantly.
She'd been sure of the answer—that there was no answer—not so long ago. But now she's second guessing. What if maybe...
What if she doesn't mind the word as much? What if it grew on her—or would grow on her if she just let Vincent get close?
Is she keeping him at arms length? Is it all because of fear?
The locker shakes noisily. Freddie's voice echoes through her ears as if she were underwater (something about an AP test sign up. She needs to check that). Voices float behind her like ghosts as she stays caught between the memory of what was and what she still wants from life.
The word still doesn't sit right with her. Boyfriend. It sounds like a taunt. A joke. Something temporary, to fade away like the wind; like a river; like a life.
A small piece of paper flutters down as the locker door opens. It had been caught between the frame and the door, waiting for her.
Squatting, she picks it up—not noticing the obstruction she causes in the hall, making someone practically jump over her to avoid tripping. Briefly, she notes the blood making her head pound.
She hears Edith call her from the end of the hall, Maisie and Felicity in tow. But they're echoes too as she stares at the three words on the folded paper:
One more letter:
What do I want?
What do I want it to say?
What answers do I want it to have?
Why do I want answers?
Why do I suddenly trust these frick'n notes!?
Her fingers carefully unfold the slip of paper, dizziness overtaking her as four more words cloud her vision.
What do you want?
YOU ARE READING
Lovebirds
Teen FictionVincent Arthur and Spencer Sofia are relationship *goals* at Hillsdale Central High School. Absolutely perfect and practically inseparable--but with a catch: they're not, and never have been, technically together. And while people (like the owner of...
