Stares and Hand-Holders

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I KNOW I HAVENT UPDTED AHHHH DONT KILL ME. THIS IS GONNA BE REALLY SHORT BUT I WILL TRY TO MAKE THE NEXT ONE LONGER AHHHH SORRY BUT I REALLY LIKE THIS CHAPTER ITS SO DETAILED OMF???

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Taylor's P.O.V.

Staring. That's all I see. Staring. Looking. Watching.

Staring at the two hands intertwined before them.

At the two smiling, proud faces trailing down the narrow halls; one real, one hesitant.

At the others also staring, giving each other questioning looks, smirking as stories and rumors churned in their heads. Ideas.

Staring at us.

Staring at me.

I kept my head ducked low, picturing nice memories, replaying in my head over and over what I'd been telling myself for the entire day:

"He makes you happy. Nobody can change that. He's special. He's yours. Don't pay attention to them."

I still couldn't shake the self-conscious feeling I got when I raised my eyes from anything but the off-white tiles and the sea blue of my ginger companion's eyes.

I would look at him, my boyfriend, (I still couldn't say it without getting a giddy feeling inside of me) and he would give me a bold smile, facing it to the crowd of students gathered around the newest couple of Hendersonville High School, and feel like I should be happy. I was. But seeing the looks on peoples' faces, the ideas setting in, I knew that soon, they would ruin it all. I had to live it while it lasted. So, I squeezed Ed's hand and kept walking, fighting the quick glances and silenced giggles, looked up, and smiled. For real, this time.

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