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The mystery boy took a second to lift his head in my direction while I seated myself. I smiled ever so slightly at him, and then plugged in ear phones of my own. I put my phone on shuffle and then turned the volume on full blast, desperately hoping to tune out everyone there, just as this boy seems to be perfect at.

About five minutes past and the teacher started to speak but no one, including myself was listening. I kept my headphones in and tight. A part of me felt bad for the guy, but you could easily tell that he gave about as much shits about teaching as we all did for learning: Zero. I sighed and rested my head on the desk but as soon at my cheek hit the surface, a ripped out piece of notebook paper was placed inches in front of my face. I sat up, alert, and picked up the note, wondering who it could have been from. I looked to my right to see the hyperactive kids, and then two my left to see the boy, staring so nonchalant into his empty notebook. My eyes peered to the corner of his notebook, where a piece of paper, about the size of the note in my hand, had been ripped out. I smiled and looked down at the note. "Got any Kurt Cobain on that thing?" It read in messy hand writing, obviously talking about the iPod I was listening to my music on. I let out and exasperated smile and laugh.

I turned the paper over and started to scribble a message back, "Do I breathe air?" I wrote and slipped it back onto his desk. I watched to see his reaction. He opened the note and laughed, exposing his dimples and lit up face. He looked more vibrant and radiant. It's funny what a smile can change about a person.

I waited a while and then I received another note back. I unfolded it and scanned the line paper and saw the same messy handwriting. It almost looks like it belongs to a first grader who failed his "trace the alphabet" assessment. "I'm Tate. Tate Landgon. :)" He finished it with a cheesy smile. I rolled my eyes, flipped the paper over, and wrote back. "Avery Rose. Or Avery Nirvana Rose if that matters." and snuck the paper back to his desk.

I watched as he opened the paper and read my note. A strange part of me hoped he thought it was sick to have a middle name like "Nirvana", although I mainly tell myself that I don't give a shit about what anyone thinks of me.

He tapped my shoulder to gain my attention and tossed the note into my hands. It read, "take it dad's a fan of Nirvana?" I looked up at him and nodded my head with a chagrined look on my face. He notioned me to flip the paper over, and then tapped on his eye. I read the second part of the note. "Biggest fear?" I laughed and motioned my hand across my neck in a cutting motion and mouthed "Nothing." I then continued to read the third part, "Your black eye. How'd you get it?" I rolled my eyes and tilted my head in the area of the three girls who caused it.

He leaned in closely so I could hear him, audibly. "Ah," he said, "so you've met the coke whores."

TAINTED LOVE // Tate LangdonWhere stories live. Discover now