her love

02 : speak

The school is almost empty, the hallways are quiet and the sound of students is fading. I usually always stay late, either to help with a charity project my school is funding, or to talk to more students who want help.

I say goodbye to a young boy who was just talking to me about his friends and how he felt lonely. I told him to talk to them about how he felt first, and see if they sympathized and included him in their activities again. And if they didn't, to go ahead and make new friends because he doesn't need people who don't care about his feelings in his life. I thought it might be slightly offensive, but he simply smiled broadly and thanked me like he meant it, then he was gone.

I'm closing my locker and shoving more letters and 'mail' into my bag when I hear footsteps slowly coming towards me. I glance up and my breath catches.

It's Kaden.

He doesn't say anything as he quietly observes me, and the letters in my hands, and then he looks behind me probably at the boy I just spoke to. I want to speak, but my heart is beating unnaturally fast and my throat is dry. This might mark the first time I've been unable to speak first to someone. Well, the someone isn't just anyone, so it makes sense.

"You're Belle, right?"

My eyes widen and suddenly I'm a statue. My lips part as I try to reply but my voice is too small for him to hear. My name sounds so good in his slight French accent, I am certainly awed. I ignore my alarming pulse and butterfly-filled stomach, and cough slightly before responding. Gosh, I feel like an idiot.

"Uh, yes! I'm Belle," I say awkwardly, my lips quivering as I give him a small smile. This is really hard.

He looks at me a bit longer before clearing his throat, and bowing his head as he runs a hand through his midnight black hair. I don't think he means for it to come off as some hot pose, but by the way I kind of stop breathing, my brain considers this a hot pose. He really is attractive. I hear him take a deep breath before speaking.

"Okay, so, I've noticed you do this sort of thing-" he gestures vaguely at the letters and in the direction of the boy who just left, " and well, I- I was wondering if-"

He stops mid-sentence, as if realising what he's doing, and then looks away in frustration.

"Okay no, this was a stupid idea... sorry for wasting your time, I'll just lea-"

"Kaden."

He freezes. I'm not sure why but he looks shocked, his golden-brown eyes open wide as he looks at me. Maybe it's because I know his name, but 90% of the school does.

"It's okay, you can ask me what you like," I whisper kindly, sending him a warm smile. My heart is still beating like crazy and my stomach still feels like a home to butterflies, but I'm always ready to help anyone who needs it. Kaden needs it, I can tell.

It doesn't matter if it's my crush, and it doesn't matter if my heart's at risk. I have a tendency to care about others more than myself, but that's all right because that's who I am.

Isn't it?

He stares at me a bit longer, before speaking quietly,

"I need some help, I was wondering if you could help me."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion before I take a step closer and smile at him again.

"Of course I'll help. What's wrong?"

He sighs deeply, and I realise he looks exhausted. He leans against the locker and closes his eyes. He barely talks to anyone in school, so I'm kind of elated that he chose me. Maybe this is tiring for him; after all, making the effort to go to someone you barely know and ask them for help is a big deal. I hope I can show him he made the right choice by reaching out, because everybody needs somebody sometimes.

"I know this is weird and tiring for you, because we share some classes and because of how people treat you here, but it's honestly okay with me, Kaden. Besides, I'm used to it. This doesn't have to end in debts and promises with me. If you want to talk to someone, me, then go ahead," I say.

He's silent for a while longer, and then he suddenly reaches out for my hand. I hold back a gasp, and these strange, electric sparks run through my palm to my arm and over my entire body. His hand is large and warm, and it feels so good to hold.

"Come on, we definitely can't talk at school," he says as he pulls me away from the lockers and towards the front doors. I can hardly pay attention to what he's saying after that, something like asking me if I'm free right now or have somewhere to be. I say no, and my focus drifts back to his hand holding mine. For some reason, I can't get over it even though it's not a big deal.

The thing is, it doesn't fit perfectly in mine because my hand is a bit small. In books, I've read about how it's always a perfect fit, the right size and the right feeling. But I'm realising that it's only the feeling that matters, and hands don't even have to fit perfectly to feel the warmth I feel right now.

They don't have to fit for me to feel as if I've been set alight.

It's the first time I'm helping someone I'm crushing on. And honestly, he isn't making it any easier.

+++

We're at the park, and he's brought me under a random tree that shields us from the view of other people here. It seems a bit scandalous, but I know he doesn't have any bad intentions. Besides, the road is close by.

On the way here, he was mostly quiet as he drove his Lexus. I've heard he's quite rich, but until now I hadn't been able to tell.

Other than the silence, he was constantly asking me if I was okay with him dragging me to god-knows-where to talk. He definitely asked me 4 times before I even sat inside his car. It was cute, really. I like that he respects my wishes.

"This is hard," he says, breaking the silence between us. We're sitting on the grass, and I'm picking at the soft petals of a flower that fell from the tree. I look up at him and realise he's clearly uncomfortable, his hands running through his hair again.

"It's okay, just start whenever you feel comfortable," I say with a smile," I actually have enough time on my hands."

His eyes meet mine and my heart jumps, but I keep a calm face and my smile on. The golden in his eyes reflects some of the green of the grass and the tree above us, and it's making his eyes look like emeralds. The air is cool and quiet, and finally, he begins.

"The only reason I realised I should talk to someone, talk to you, is because two days ago, I almost committed suicide."

The air stills and so do I. My mouth opens in shock and I stare at him, and strangely, I feel my heart break a little. And it knocks the air out of me.

I guess getting my heart broken might not be an unlikely fate after all.