A Poet's Secret

Chapter 12

Weeks go by and me, Sierra and Ezra, go on acting like nothing happened. Ezra and I remain friends who occasionally almost kiss each other. Sierra continues her playgirl act of a new girl every week and I continue being jealous.

I've been coming to school late on purpose for the past week so that I  can conveniently skip my creative writing class. Mr. Rios will definitely ask for my journal and I don't have the journal because I ripped it to shreds. So, instead of telling him, I'm avoiding the class altogether which was going completely well till Rio decided to call my mom saying he's concerned about me and my grade because I  haven't been in class in a long time so now I have to go. Lovely.

"You look dead"

"Wow thanks you're such a sweet talker ez" I  roll my eyes

He laughs. We hang out for a while before the bell rings.
"Ezra I'm litterally gonna kill myself if I  have to go to his class"

"Don't be dramatic you'll be fine"

Mr Rio eyes me as I walk into class just when the late bell rings. As usual, there's a prompt on the board for our warm up and I lay my head on the desk. He said he was worried because I hadn't shown up to class, well here I am. He said nothing about me having to do work. All he said to do was show up.

I feel a tapping on my table and I peek out of my folded arms.
"Where is your notebook zora" Rio says

I sit up and bluntly I  say "I  don't have it"

"Ms. Mckelin, it clearly states in the rubric that each student is required to bring their notebook to class every day," he says tightly
"So where is your notebook?"

"I ripped it to shreds and threw the spines at my bedroom mirror sir," I  say and I  hear snickers scattered around the classroom

"I don't have the patience for your nonsense today," he says as he walks to his desk and hands me a sheet of paper

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

November

Homecoming goes by and Ezra and I go together as friends of course. Ezra threw an after party and it was fun. His parents weren't home. It was their anniversary weekend so we had the house all to ourselves. I helped him clean up after the after-party and as we were picking up the empty snack bags scattered around his living room he asked "have you ever written any poems about me?"

I look at him, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It was really out of nowhere.
"Probably not, it's fine, it's a stupid question," he added hurriedly.

I drop my trash bag and begin walking over to him, "No, no it's not" I say timidly. "I've written a few."

He clears his throat, casting his eyes to the ground. "Can I maybe read them sometime?"

"Of course," I whisper.

And I don't know why I whisper, his eyes look so tender and vulnerable and this moment is so delicate that I don't wanna break our bubble and I hug him. I stuff my face in his neck and wrap my arms around him.

When he dropped me off at home that night, he kissed me and I  didnt stop him. He apologized and I said he had nothing to be sorry for.  He was awkward the day after but it was soon forgotten. Sierra went to hoco with a girl named Stacy I  think and they were nowhere to be found after the dance. But I found myself worrying about her whereabouts less.