Invisible

A Poem Titled 'Let Go'.

A/N: The BOLD texts means its the poem.

Celestia's POV

It was January. The start of the second term in twelfth grade. "So?" Dominique asked me, rubbing her shoulder-length hair.

"Which university are you applying on?" "Harvard." I said quickly, and she squealed. "I'm going there, too! You've sent your—" "I have. I'm supposed to hear back in a week."

"I hope we both have the same dorm." Dominique grinned. "Yeah. Lynn's going there too." My lips curved in a smile at the thoughts of my friend.

"Ki!" I called, and she jogged our way. I couldn't help but see a . . gift on her neck when her hair flew by the wind.

"Ki?" I asked, and she grinned. "Yeah?" "You might want to cover the . . uh . ." Her hands ran to her neck, and Dominique slightly caught a glimpse of the gift.

"You have a hi—" "Shhh!" Kiki shushed her, blushing as red as a tomato. "Niall?" I questioned her, and she nodded, still blushing.

"Back to the point." I cleared my throat, trying to get the nasty image out of my head. I've never gotten one and I never want to get one.

"What uni are you applying for?"

Her face fell. "Back to Ireland, with Ni and Louis." I sighed. It was bad enough that Kiki and I were close friends, but Joanne and Louis, who had a fall out, had to be in a long-distance relationship.

"Stella and Kimberly are applying to Yale." She informed me, and I sighed again. "Who are going to Harvard from this school aside from Dom and I?"

Kiki's eyes glinted with mischief. "You're applying for Harvard?" She asked mischievously, a bright smile on her face. "Uh, yeah?" She stared at me. "Stop! Its creeping me out." I groaned.

"Okay, well, Matthew, Jo and Vanessa will go there."

"What?" I gasped, my thoughts spinning.

Matthew was going to Harvard. Oh, no! But Harvard was my dream school. Damn the guy.

I tossed my hair back, and Kiki gaped at me. "You have a gift too." She said, pointing to me. "What?" I stared at her, panicked. "How—where?"

"Shoulder." She narrowed her eyes at me. "Scar."

I breathed a sigh in relief.

"Long story."

"Come on," Kiki dragged me away. "Its Poetry."

Mrs. Julianne seemed to love romances. So she always partered us boys-girls. And I was dreading it.

"Ms. Smith with Mr. Horan, Ms. Geralds with Mr. Flier, Ms. Parker with Mr. Tomlinson, Ms. Harolds and Mr. Jones." I wanted to bang my fists to complain, but I stayed silent as Mrs. Julianne picked the partners.

After she finished, Matthew sat beside me. I had a face that held the utmost displeasure.

"Make a poem about your current relationship with your partner. Friends? Make it about friends. In love? Make it so. Enemies? No cuss words, please. All kinds of relationships, the first word you think when you listen the name of your partner. You have one hour. Begin!"

I twirled my pencil in the air.

What did I first think of Matthew?

Two words sprung on my head.