A Day to Forget

Chapter 3:

"Liya." A familiar voice calls from behind me as I follow the stream of people into the enormous cafeteria. Turning I see Louis jogging to catch up with me.

"So I sit in that table all the way in the far end by the windows." He points to a small table near a set of windows that were elongated to the floor. The sun shone through them onto the table almost like a dream.

"I mean if you still want to sit with me." He shrugs and I nod quickly forgetting I hadn't made a gesture to show him I was listening. He smiles and I follow him to the table.

I sit down across from him and watch him curiously as he sets his head in his hands staring at me. His gaze was light, but I didn't like it. I hated people's eyes on me, and it made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

I hear the bell finally ring and I wondered if Louis had friends coming to sit with him. I hadn't thought about that, other people trying to talk to me. But it seemed as if it were just us, which was odd, but more comforting.

"So tell me something." His head tilts slightly in his hands and I feel a heaviness in my throat. I open my mouth, afraid to try and speak, knowing nothing would come out.

I close my mouth embarrassed and point to a book that was up top of his books close to him.

"You like to read?" His face stays blank as I nod but turns into a smile.

"Me too." I could tell me not talking was making him uncomfortable.

"A Farewell to Arms is my favorite." My hand covers my mouth as a odd sound leaves it. Was that my voice? It sounded so odd- and unfamiliar. I can't help the shock cover my face as I clear my throat trying to make it look natural.

I could see the surprise on Louis's face too. Which didn't help. Had I really just spoken? It made the pain worse, and I know the real reason I hadn't spoken in so long. It felt better. It was too painful.

"I- I love that book." Louis voice causes me to try and swallow the heavy lump that had gotten bigger in my throat. I could feel my eyes begin to water, causing me to bite my cheek to hold it in. Finally after I calm myself down, I nod unable to meet Louis's eyes.

"I also like Pale Fire, I'm not sure if you've read that." He shrugs obviously picking up on my laceration expression and trying to make me feel more comfortable.

"I've read it too. It's- one of my favorites." My voice comes out just above a whisper, but more clearly. The lump in my throat seemed to taunt me, daring me to hold back my pain. Letting out a breath I hadn't noticed I was holding, I see that Louis was grinning.

"What other books do you like?" He tilts his head at me. Louis made me feel surprisingly comfortable. Considering he is the first person I have spoken to in around five months. Guilt suddenly washes over me. Shouldn't my grandmother be the one I should be speaking to? I hadn't spoken to her, out of all people, and I felt as if i should be talking to her, not someone I had just met.

"Much Ado About Nothing and Ulysses have always been books I find myself reading over again." My voice stays above a whisper, just enough for him to hear, but he doesn't seem to mind. My mind falls back to my grandma, but maybe this was better. Talking to someone who didn't remind me of them. Maybe Louis was different then most people- maybe he was as understanding as his eyes seemed to be.

"Shakespeare huh?" His smiles grows and I can't help it grow to my face.

"You know Shakespeare?" I was surprised honestly. I had never met anyone who has liked or even heard of the books for another matter. Not including English teachers who always seemed to like me because of it.

"Of course! Shakespeare is my favorite honestly. There's just something about the way he words things.."

"That grabs your attention?" I finish for him causing a small chuckle to leave his lips as he nods.

"Exactly." I nod in understanding with him.

"I've never once met anyone in my life who has liked Shakespeare except.." His voice trails off and his face turns to a frown.

"Except for you." He quickly recovers with a smile. His lips part for a moment feeling nervous from my gaze I was guessing. I knew he was talking about someone else, but i decide to let it go.

"I've never met anyone either. Except for adults of course." My voice was normal now, and I was still surprised by it. I had forgot what it sounded like, because it reminded me too much of what I wanted to forget. Which sounded odd to everyone but no one understood.

The rest of lunch was surprisingly- alright i guess. Louis hadn't left my side which made me happy because he made me feel better. He had told me about himself, which made my curiosity ease. He had told me about his family and what he liked, and how his family had moved here from England because his mother wanted a new start, which caused her to meet his step dad. He told me his name was Mark and that he liked him a lot. Louis's life seemed happy- and so different from mine. But it was nice to hear something positive and I was happy he didn't ask me about my family. I had only told him about my grandma, and he respectfully didn't ask why I lived with her.

The last bell had already rang and I was surprised I had made it through the day. My classes had been easy to find and I was happy that Niall had only been in my English class. His face had oddly ran in my mind a few times today, replaying his words he had said to me earlier. As if on cue, my gaze falls on him as he walks in my direction in the hallway. He was walking with two other guys, who looked just as intimidating and attractive as him.

His eyes meet mine causing my cheeks to heat. I look away disregarding the awkward eye contact and hurry toward the doors that lead outside.

I make my way outside as my grandma's minivan pulls up in front of the school. I hurry down the stairs that I feel like I had just made my way up. I sigh before opening the blue car door.

"How was your first day?" Her fragile voice finally breaks the silence as we pull into the driveway of her house. Looking down at my hands I nod.

"That's good.." Her voice trails off as we enter through the garage. Setting my shoes on the mat next to the door, I hurry up the steps unsure if I should talk to her or not, but my subconscious decides against it.

I do my usual routine and hurry to my new room. It was bigger than the one I had at home, but it held a emptiness that made it hard to even be in it. I grab the familiar green book, and begin to write about my riveting day to people who will never read it.