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Warning: contains descriptive content that may upset readers.
As a teenager, I always found myself surrounded by people who wish to socialize with me, play games with me, and gain my friendship. It's what I found annoying, but could care less.
But it felt nice... to not be alone, especially with René who always used to stay by my side during every class, lunch, and whenever. We were inseparable... unless I needed a break from him, so I'd just constantly avoid him for the rest of the day, much to his dismay.
I thought everyone liked me because I was witty, playful, fun to be around, and a nice person. Until after René had left France did I realize that wasn't the case.
It was a few days later since I stayed home instead of going to school over the grief of my brother leaving me. So when I walked through the door that would lead to my classroom, I was expecting those who constantly hung out with me to come running with wide grins on their faces, what they usually do when they see me.
But they didn't.
I bit on the chocolate chip cookie and munched on it happily while staring down at my pictures. Seika was sitting next to me on her bed, drinking tea while reading a book.
We were at her place, relaxing and being lazy as the hours passed by, not giving any thoughts as to what was going on outside of her room.
As I worked on my book, I tried to think of the many things I would tell Maman, from how René and I reunited, to how I joined the Host Club, to how I made such good friends who care deeply for me. When we see each other again, this book would tell her everything.
"What a pretty book," Seika said as she gazed at the pictures I glued on each page. "Oh! That's us in our pillow fort!"
I chuckled as she leaned in to look at each photo more closely with a wide grin on her face. "It's a scrapbook. I stick in pictures of my fondest memories to look back on."
"My, what a beautiful bouquet!" Seika exclaimed as I flipped a few pages back. "Lavenders. They seem old."
"Ah... yes. There are also lilacs with them," I murmured, gazing down at the worn-out bunch. "They did smell nice together. I kept them since it's the only thing I have that can make me remember something..."
Come to think of it...
I stared at the old flowers, trying to recall a few things. Especially when...
I felt my cheeks heat up when thinking back on what happened the day I was handed the messy bouquet, wondering what I would have done if something like that happened to me now that I'm older.
"Was it your own idea to put together a scrapbook?" Seika asked, breaking my thoughts as she glanced towards me in confusion.
