self

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It hasn't rained

in four weeks.


I sit through class

pretending to take notes.

Glance out the window.

Words aren't registering.

Takeshi stopped talking to me.

Maybe he's stopped that too.


When classes end,

I head to the library.

Lately,

I've been staying

only an hour.

I nod to the shy girl

at the front desk.

I sit where I always do.

I pull out my novel.


Habit.


I glance. Up.

I see her silhouette.

"Your book looks interesting as usual," she says,

an small grin on her face.


I smile.

Open my lips to reply.


Then I realize.

The seat across from me


is empty.

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