Breathe

Stories

I frowned. "They called me. 'The alcoholic's daughter'. They told me my dad was dead. They made jokes about killing him because he was accused of abusing his step daughter to death. When really she got drunk at a party she wasn't even supposed to be at. And drove into the river. . . I never even knew her.

"But they said, I should do what she did. Because I wasn't good enough for the world. And. I believes them. I got my Facebook and a bunch of people that I thought were my actual friends told me to add them. And they were friends with the people that told me those things. I got a bunch of pictures of knives in my messages and on my page." I sighed as a lonely tear ran down my cheek.

"That's... Horrible. Rihannon. I'm sorry."

I looked down and shook my head. "Nate, it's not your fault." I said.

"I never said it was. I just feel really bad."

I saw my moms car drive into the parking lot.

"Hey. See ya next time?" He dug in his pocket for something.

"Um. Sure?" I said.

Nate pulled out a pen. "Lend me your hand."

I smiled and gave him my hand. He wrote what I think was his phone number on my hand.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Just text me or call. I don't really care!" He yelled as he walked towards his car.

My mom honked the horn. I ran over to the car and got in.

"Who was that?" She asked. Her brown hair was in a messy bun. It looked good on her.

"Nathan."

"Oooohh." She said mockingly.

"No. We're just friends."

"That's what all teenagers say." She rolled her eyes and drove out of the parking lot into traffic.

The whole way home I thought about Nate's grey eyes. And his brown hair. And his jawline. His quiet but deep voice. His oversized hoodie. The way he helped me with my things. He was so kind.

I think I have a crush!