Timeless Love

Chapter 2: I'll tell you why.

Ah, the time of day every teenager despises: Morning. I stretched while yawning, and continued to lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, for another few minutes before actually getting out of bed.

I grabbed some clothes that would become my outfit of the day after I showered. Which wasn't anything planned, just a white lacy T-shirt and some jeans. And of course the antique necklace I wear everyday.

After getting dressed, I glanced in the mirror. My hair was still damp from the shower, and if I didn't do something with it now, it'd turn into a wavy, ramagious lion's mane by the time it dried. I quickly began braiding my long mass of chestnut hair, which is typically the only way I ever do my hair. Mom sometimes claims it's stupid to not mix it up a bit, and to not be more adventurous. But it's just my hair, I don't really think much about it. And if something's stupid, but it works, then I wouldn't consider it stupid. So the braid stays.

Another thing mother concerns herself with: My makeup. I don't wear any, and apparently that's a bad thing. Because highlighting my green eyes is definitely worth five or ten minutes of my time...not. But on the bright side, my naturally tan-colored skin allows my mother to not bother me on the topic of foundation or concealer or whatever makeup people use to hide skin blemishes.

When I'm done with my tedious, repetitive morning routine, I begin my walk to school. It was a nice day, so the walk didn't bother me much. Humid days are the kind of days walking is just irritating, they make me feel like I need to take a shower again for whatever reason. Almost like the world has a sticky vibe to it. But anyway, I eventually got to the high school building and sat where I always sat before they open the doors to students (Yes, they make us wait to get in. Don't ask me why, because I don't have an answer) which is under the 'ancient' oak tree in the school yard.

I have study hall fourth period, which is my favorite "class" in school. Most of the other students in that class with me listen to music, gossip, or get caught up on homework that they probably never actually consider doing at home. I, on the other hand, choose to read. Not surprised, are you? I didn't think so. As the bell for the beginning to study hall rang, I pulled out a book and quickly got absorbed in it, becoming unaware of the world around me until...

"Aye....aye, girl! Why you always readin'?" asked some guy sitting in a desk diagonally from mine.

Stunned at someone acknowledging my existence, I sat there drawing a blank until my mind returned to normal and I had the mental capacity to reply.

"I just like to I guess", I replied, sticking my nose back into the book.

"Wait, you like to? So you ain't reading that book 'cause you have to?"

"Nope. Not only do I like reading, I love it."

He laughed and asked me what enjoyment can possibly be found in reading a book just for the hell of it.

"You really want to know why? It's because books are written by people. There are an endless amount of people you can possibly meet in the world, and likewise an endless amount of ideas, stories, and perspectives to hear. Some books are inspiring, some will make you cry. It's just a nice experience, you know?"

He half-smiled and laughed, shook his head, and just like that the conversation was over.