Nobody really noticed me.
I was grateful for that.
The halls were jammed with students and chatter everytime I walked out of a classroom so no one had time to notice me and my scars, but the first week was killer. Not because the people were mean, but because I was mean. To myself. I couldn't stop the circulation of thoughts that whipped through my mind like a constant tornado every time I bothered to wonder. I curled my hair, and bought new shoes and kept my head low. And that's when the second week came. I binged for a few days, but I mostly shoved my lunch away. I couldn't eat, I didn't want to eat, guys were starting to talk to me and if only I could get a little skinnier.. I would feel full somehow.
I could only feel whole when a piece is missing, I've learned. A piece has been missing so long that the empty feeling is all I've ever known, and I don't want that piece to return. It would be too much. I'm okay with being a half, because this half is prettier.
This half is much prettier and Clint seems to think so too, whenever he smiles at me. I met him on the first day and he thinks skinny is better, that's why I pick at my salad and drink my water and don't make it too obvious. I flick at a piece of tomato at the ground.
"So you moved here from New York?" One of the boys asks, I nod and smile and place my fork back onto the table. If I hold it for too long it makes me feel uneasy. Like I'm committing a crime.
"It's cold up ther - Hey guys, is that Foster?"
Everyone and I mean, more than just the people at my table, like half of the lunchroom's heads snap to the red double doors of the entrance and only for a few mumbled and surpressed bits of conversation, it goes quiet. I look along with the crowd, you know, so I can fit in. Not because I'm in any way curious - wow. He's really bruised up.
He has hair as dark as the night sky and pink cheeks and not the hint of a smile, but I think he's the most beautiful and broken thing that I've ever seen.. and - and I turn back to my salad and try not too blush for some odd reason. He's just a guy, I tell myself, and some are more attractive than others. I laugh it off.
But Clint doesn't laugh, he stares straight at the sky and squeezes his eyes shut and utters a small, "I thought he was dead."
That made my stomach turn over. And this time, it wasn't the hunger that did it.
YOU ARE READING
Darling & Foster
Novela Juvenil"I would kill to be skinny," She would always cross her arms and say. So she did what she said, she went killing, but the only person she was killing, was herself. //COMPLETED//
