Adore

1 // basorexia

 "You all have a homework assignment tonight."

That is the worst possible thing you could say to your class, especially if it's the first thing we hear coming from your mouth.

We all groan, making Mr. Rios roll his eyes, probably hoping that was going to be our reactions. He stood behind his wooden desk in front of the whiteboard. "Calm down, guys it's not what you think. All you have to do is watch TV- "A hand flew up immediately, "Yes, girl in the red and white. State your name and question."

"Natalia Gavin. How does watching television relate to psychology?" My spine tingled in my seat. She saw me look at her, sending back a glare meant to kill. We haven't spoken since the end of sophomore year three months ago. It feels bizarre, being so close to someone, like sisters, then they betray you in the worst possible way.

Everything was because of her. My family being torn apart, my father gone, my mom can't even look at me, apart from this town that just openly spit venomous words- I need to stop. There was a pang from my hands and I realized it was me clenching them so hard my knuckles turned white, my nails digging into the inside of my palms. It's only 8:15 and I want to murder someone. I shouldn't have to.

 I shouldn't have to know what it's like to be the one punished for infidelity not my own. It shouldn't be me who takes all the judgment. He already had his punishment. It should be her. It should be her. It should most definitely be her.

I'm this close to slipping, but I know I won't. I know myself. Everyone is probably wondering how one as weak and frail hearted as me isn't breaking, though I also know I'm just a speck in their lives. A speck they revovle around for a minute, forget, then remember again when the next juicy gossip about slips.

"I wasn't finished explaining," he rolled his eyes again and presumed back to the whole class. "Watch TV and analyze the commercials you're watching. Find what form of persuasion and deception they contain to get you to feed into their lies, um, I mean, buy their product."

After that his words became mashed and blurred, details of his life came into topic, something I didn't need to care about. I just sat and stared at my palms that had small, red indents, shaped like crescents-

 "Would you mind moving your backpack off the seat so I could sit down?" Someone must have just gotten here. Probably taking advantage of it being okay to be late on the first day rule. It happened all the time. I shoved my scarlet backpack on to my desk, not looking up from my hands, unknowing to the fact that every girl had their eyes glued on to the boy.

As I looked up, I could barely contain my glee.

He was handsome, dark hair falling across a light-skinned face, curious-colored eyes flashed through the haphazard strands. His jaw was firm and strong, and his nose long but slightly crooked, like it had been slightly broken and left to its imperfections.

There was an odd lightness about his eyes, though, and a small curve to his lips. As if there were something terribly funny only he knew the answer to. It was that brief, wicked glance I caught that said maybe he hadn't broken it, but he knew what it looked like. And he liked that. The hint of danger. Made him seem more like something he wasn't.

I'm going insane with theses random thoughts.

I twitched a little bit, everyone was still looking, she was still looking at me, like it was my fault this guy chose to sit next to me.

"Hey," he breathed.

Oh no, no. Get away from me. I don't know you, stranger.

"Hello-"