Unrequited

Chapter. 3

 "Read between the lines" by beautyatwork is perf okay.

-baffle xx

I wonder how it feels to be loved back. Like to know someone out there is thinking about you every night when they can’t go to bed or you suddenly popped out in their mind while they were hanging with their mates, or how they think about you and their heart flutters and you leave them speechless like no one else. I want someone to feel all those things for me. I want Gale to feel all those things for me.

We finally made it to school and as we entered the school----just my luck----Gale spots her boyfriend, Harry, immediately. She kisses me on the cheek and mutters a chirpy good bye before dashing to her boyfriend and disappearing into a blur of colours, washed away by the shore of students passing by.

I sigh a sad, defeated, sigh. I know it’s wrong---well, I think it is, anyway---to think about someone else’s girlfriend in that way, I mean if Gale were mine and someone else wanted her well I couldn’t blame them because I completely understand, but maybe, maybe Harry doesn’t understand, maybe he’s the possessive type, maybe he doesn’t like me thinking about Gale like that. I don’t like thinking about Gale like that, longingly, anyway. I just don’t have much of a choice.

Still, the bad, dark, dirty part of me is thinking, thinking that Harry will leave Gale soon, very soon, just like every other guy did. I try to justify myself by thinking, I only think this because, Gale is perfect and she hasn’t dated anyone remotely close to perfect.

I still feel dirty and dark, though.

My first class is English and usually, Mrs. Knight doesn’t ask us to do anything, just to go to the library and do some researches, but we all know research means, free period.

Today, of course, Mrs. Knight also asked us to go to the library. I dash to the library---hands in my pockets--- alone. I don’t have much friends---acquaintances, yeah, but I don’t think acquaintances would choose to hang out with me instead of their friends---that’s why I head there alone.

I take a sit at one of the tables in the far back---where I always sit----near the windows---I like occasionally shifting my concentration from my book and out the window. The sun streaming through the window panes and the birds chirping outside, it’s all so beautiful.

I look up and I notice someone alone three tables away from mine, she’s also staring out the window, concentrating, furrowing her eyebrows a little and then looking back at her paper and writing speedily, anxiously, almost furiously.

She quickly looks up, like she’s startled, like she feels my gaze, as soon as she sees me, sees me staring, she blushes a deep crimson colour, quickly looks down, refuses to meet my gaze.

I continue to steal glances at her.

Sometimes she looks up, but she quickly looks away. She’s so shy, so alone, so introvert.

The bell rings, and I exit the library.