It began with a notebook. One with ragged edges, worn binding and a coffee stain in the lower right corner. The pages were heavy with stories, dreams, random thoughts, ideas. Words. All of which, belong to her. She sat in the back of each class, furiously penning, oblivious to the world beyond the book’s pages. Life was fanatical, and it was a safe haven.
When she looked up, she saw. She saw how Joe stared at Felicity, and she saw how hard Felicity was trying to not care. She saw Andy Pierce and Rose Elliott holding hands under the desk. She saw Nicole glance at the valentine on Mae’s desk, then dejectedly back at her own, which was empty. She saw and she wrote. She saw and she dreamt. She dreamt of being swept off her feet.
Her feet carried her from class to class, but her head was up in the clouds. Then it wasn’t. Actually, it was on the floor, along with her books. There was darkness, and then there was reality. And it hurt. She blinked hard began gather her books from their various positions across the hallway. Fully recovered, she stood up and began started her walk to class.
