Confessions to a writer

Love

Warm, brisk, free. Sun on the trees, leaves dancing with the wind, gracefully, slowly. I imagined the idea that I was a leaf, a green leaf, dancing with the wind because I was weightless. For how I have craved for a second life, a good life. Not that my life wasn't good. But it wasn't perfect. I was supposed to be perfect. Nova is perfect. But I'm not really Nova. I'm Nova, not that Nova. I despised Nova Adair, I didn't care about Nova Adair. But everyone loved Nova Adair. I didn't fall for her shameless flattery, I'm not awed in all greatness like the others.

Jace loved Nova. She didn't get it. People who loved Nova only know Nova for her foolish smile, that if you weren't careful she'd rip you to shreds, buried, gone.

"Nova, what are you staring at?" Jace didn't get the hint that I wasn't listening. I was a leaf now, the same one on that healthy tree. The tree beside the green, though, was a sad one. Sad trees made me sad, they wouldn't make Nova sad.

Jace tugged at my polyester sweater, worn by the old age. My eyes wandered from the tree to her light eyes, dark circles from sleepless nights shadowing beneath them, pleading to be lightened with just a few more hours tonight. Nova slept well, after all, she is perfect. I didn't sleep well, neither did Jace. Yet, Jace still loved Nova.

"Hey, come on, stop ignoring me," Jace still didn't get it.

"Do you believe in reincarnation?" I wanted to be a leaf. Nova would never want to be a leaf. "Umm... thanks for your average randomness," Jace raised her dark eyebrows, "But no. I don't." Her hair didn't match. Jace had light, voluminous, vibrant, blonde hair. He eyebrows were dark, very dark. They were Black. no. Jet black. How imperfect. Nova had long black hair, past both shoulders, black eyebrows. Perfect. Same old Nova.

"Why?" Nova wouldn't believe in reincarnation either. Nova had other things to believe in.

"Come on, Nova. The idea of having a second life after death is ridiculous. Now get your head out of the clouds and help me with this project, it's not going to get done by itself." Jace looked, annoyed. Crazed, even. A gust of wind blew her beautiful hair. Jace was pretty, so pretty it would make Nova jealous. Nova was pretty, but she didn't have the confidence. Jace didn't have to wear makeup, or do countless layers of skincare. She was natural, all perfectly natural. Nova wasn't perfectly natural, she was just barely natural. People liked that, I didn't know why.

I reached down, picking up my wooden yellow pencil. The pink eraser was worn, almost to the brim of the metal. The lead was dull, annoying to write with. I put it to the white paper, Jace was moving her hand, writing letters and words with her neat and simplistic handwriting. Nova had good handwriting.

"What is up with you today? It's normal for you to be weird, but not this weird." I stared at her expressions, the way she knew what emotions to show for what was being said. Nova couldn't do that, she was confused. Jace was just like Nova. But I liked Jace, I didn't like Nova.

"I want to be a leaf." I say, but Jace won't get it. She never gets it. Nova never gets it either.

Her face was dull, giving a dull expression, like I was out of my mind. Nova was never out of her mind, but I was. Everyone knew Nova. Nobody knew me.

"Okay, that's it, I'll just do the project myself. I'll tell Mrs. Campbell to only give me credit." All I heard in that sentence was stuff I could get away with. Nova would get credit, she'd tell the teacher Jace was lying.

I ignored what she said, something I would do, not Nova. I watched as she stomped away, the poster folding up while Jace moved so quickly. Gravity was doing its thing.