Behind closed doors

Chapter I: Invisible Scars, Pivotal Marks

A/N I did originally write this story and call "1989"but Im gonna scarp everything and rewrite it I hope y'all enjoy xoxo

I am just a fuck-up of a person.

In the last year I fucked up in so many categories of life, I can't even imagine how I got into college in the first place. Failing one of my classes was a first for me. How does someone even fail Spanish? My parents, who don't accept failure, pressured me to take a Spanish course. It's as if they think I need Spanish to study astronomy. All of this is to somehow redeem myself, academically at least. I can't redeem myself mentally, there's something wrong with me in the eyes of society. The decade is almost over, like it's almost 1990 for fucks sake and what I am is still considered wrong. It's fetishized and, although it's against societal morality, it can be tailored to your liking. I hate that society sees me as wrong.

I never chose to be attracted to girls; I would sleep with a guy if it would make me how a woman is meant to be according to society. However, the idea of having a man close to me makes me physically ill.

I wish I had been born different, born without all these thoughts, born to be accepted. I was accepted by someone once, it was long ago... we're not close anymore. When our closeness faded my walls once again rose up. Now I'm on my way to this attempt of an academic redemption, I'm almost illiterate in Spanish and now I have to pretend to be fluent.

With my arms filled with books I stumbled into the class unready for the humiliation I'm about to face. I sat down and my pile of books found its place on the desk, I looked to my left and felt embarrassed when I saw the most beautiful girl I've ever laid my eyes on. I knew my thoughts were wrong and disgusting. In the moment I couldn't care less. I stared at her for a solid twenty minutes, admiring her cinnamon-sugar-like skin, her deep dark eyes looking down at the professor, her beautiful cascade of dark curls, her soft and gentle-looking lips. I wanted them on me, and her beautiful fucking figure it was all too perfect.

A sudden question shot me out of my thoughts. "La señorita de todos los libros,¿podría ponerse y presentarse a la clase?" my professor asked me. I was aware that he was calling me out for being the 'lady with all the books' but every single word after made zero sense. "What?" I replied fearing that the professor would call me out for being illiterate on the first day. "Español por favor." The professor corrected me as I felt my cheeks glow red from the embarrassment. As I was about to humiliate myself once again and ask him what, but in 'Español' this time I felt a tap on my shoulder and saw the girl next to me slide a note onto my desk.

"Pssst he's asking you to stand up and introduce yourself to the class (in Spanish) just say your name and you like to listen to music or something he doesn't wanna know much. Just say 'Hola soy (ur name) y me gusta escuchar música.'" The letter instructed me. I stood up and recited what the letter told me to say. "Gracias Amy, siéntate por favor." The professor said as I sat back down.

I sent the gorgeous angel of a girl next to me a note back to thank her. "Thank you so much!" the note said, which I sheepishly passed to her. She looked down at the note and smiled at it as she wrote a reply. "No problem, Amy," she replied with a little smiley face doodled in the corner. I immediately felt my stomach swell with a kaleidoscope of butterflies and my cheeks glow red. "Ummm, so what's your name." I jotted down. Before I could pass it back to her the bell rang. When I looked back up at her she had disappeared.

After I strolled out of class, beating myself up for losing the opportunity to finish my conversation with this girl, I decided to go to the library, to try to find a Spanish book before I embarrass myself in that class again. I entered the freezing, air conditioned library, searching for a Spanish dictionary or some kind of study guide. I shivered from the air conditioning blasting through the room, I grabbed the flannel around my waist and wrapped it around me for warmth. When I arrived at the language section, I was searching between the French and German dictionaries when a book caught my eye: a self-help book "Stress Less, Live More: Techniques for a Peaceful life," which struck my interest.