Moving On

Moving On (1)

Chapter One

Dear Diary,

I'm not sure how much I cried the first time we 'broke up.' But I do remember the reason why.

My boyfriend, if I could still call him that, he was -- different. Different, not in the sense of his orientation, or in the sense of his mental stability. More like different in the sense that he didn't care about our relationship as much as I seemed to do.

Or maybe I was different. Maybe I cared too much. But I knew that wasn't true. I mean, there should be a problem if you cared too little, but if you cared too much, was that really a problem? Apparently it was. If you care too much, you just seem desperate.

Of course. That's exactly what he said when, out of frustration, I pointed out exactly what was bothering me so much. I cried, of course. And the funny thing is, even though it was his fault, he somehow happened to place the blame on me. After I apologized for being seemingly desperate, he decided he needed time to think about our relationship. That I had doubted him and he needed to think about everything I had said because it had hurt him.

I was speechless. I didn't understand why I had to be on the recieving end of the punishment when it wasn't even my fault. At least I thought it wasn't my fault. But really, it was, because I shouldn't have fallen in love with a jerk like him.

"That's deep." I gasped, shut my diary closed and flipped my head around to find the voice that had spoken to me.

A man stood behind me, his hands folded behind his back, staring at me with a huge smile on his face. Well, it was more of a smirk. He was moderately tall and his brown hair, cut short, shone in the sunlight that was spilling through the sunroof in the library. His chocolate brown eyes were glowing in mirth; he seemed truly humored by my reaction.

He waved with his long fingers and said, "Hello."

My mouth dropped open slightly, and I gulped, not knowing what to say. Instead, I turned back around, grabbed my diary, my bag, and my sweater, and stood up.

"Hey, wait--" The man attempted to stop me, but I walked away quickly, not wanting to converse with a stranger. I heard him laughing behind me and increased the pace of my walk so I could get away faster.

I reached the front doors and stepped through the library detectors to go outside. Suddenly a ringing erupted the silence in the library. I gasped and looked around me wondering who had accidently walked out with a book.

No one was near the detectors other than me. My eyes widened as I realized I was the culprit.

"Ma'am I'm going to have to ask you to step inside for a moment." A security guard popped out from nowhere and directed me to the front desk.

As I walked to the front desk shamefully, I saw the stranger watching me and laughing from the corner of my eyes. I blushed and walked faster to get out of his view.

The lady at the front desk, Dani, raised her eyebrows as I guiltily stood in front of her. I pulled the book I had forgotten to sign out -- Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince -- from my bag and placed it in front of her.

"Alia Staugh? You forgot to sign out a book?" Dani asked me, truly surprised.

I hung my head in shame. "Sorry Dani," I muttered. "I was in a rush."

Dani smiled and shaking her head, she signed the book out for me. She didn't even ask for my library card because I had been here so many times she had my account number memorized.

"This is just a warning, Alia. Try not to let it happen again," Dani said. Although it was a warning, Dani was smirking. She must have seen the encounter between the stranger and me. Ugh.

I simply nodded my head, and making sure to check that I had no more books in my bag, and that I had everything I needed, I proceeded to walk out of the library.

I was stopped again, this time, by the man himself. "Hello," He said again, waving his fingers at me.

My brown eyes widened, and I was known to have large pupils, so I probably looked as pitiful as Bambi the doe.

"Hey, hey, don't run away again. I'm safe, I promise. No diseases, never been arrested, not mental. I'd say that's pretty safe, isn't it Dani?" The man smirked again, and I turned around to look at Dani, who smiled and gave me a thumbs up signal.

If Dani knew him, he should be kind of safe. At least I hoped so. I didn't make a move to run, so I guess the man took the hint and kept talking.

"I'm Vincent Nicholls." He held out a hand, but I stayed immobile. I just kept staring at him, unsure of what to do exactly. Should I stay? Should I go?

"And you are...?" Vincent prodded when he didn't recieve a reply from me. I remained still and quiet.

"Er... did you lose your voice or are you aphonic?" Vincent asked. I still didn't reply.

Vincent made a gesture to Dani, something like 'help me.'

"Her name is Alia Staugh. She's not mute and she didn't lose her voice. I'm not sure what happened to her though. It's either a state of shock, or she's just really shy in front of you." Dani said to the man.

I kind of disliked that Dani told the stranger my name, but I guess it didn't hurt for one another person to know who I was. It wasn't like I was someone important anyway.

"Alia, would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?" Vincent asked.

I, who was previously staring at the ground, taking a special interest in a spider crawling carefully across the floor, snapped my head to face Vincent so quickly I was surprised my head had not loosened and fallen straight off of my neck.

"Vincent!" Dani whisper-yelled.

Vincent ignored her and smirked at me. "Would you, Alia?"

I was tensing. Sweat was forming on my upper lip and neck areas. I pushed my glasses farther up on to my nose, a nervous habit.

Surprisingly, my brain was able to process the information and analyze it. I could hear the chains and gears in my frontal lobe grind together as they tried to form an answer for me to spit out.

I started to evaluate all the options. There were reasons I should say no, and reasons I should say yes. The negative side was stronger: all I could picture was a crazy-looking Vincent coming after me with a sharp knife. I shivered involuntarily.

So I nodded my approval.

Don't ask me why. I blame it on his eyes.