The First Time. 🇺🇸

Chapter Two.

After a moment of silence, Laura watches me under her long black eyelashes. They look even longer than yesterday.

She's starting to really exaggerate with the make up, especially on mascara. Surely with the intention of getting his attention.

I never dared tell him but Kentin does not seem to care much about her. Certainly, sometimes he gives him a brief smile, but he does nothing more in public. She told me that he knows each other well outside of here. I did not want to doubt her, but I do not see any reason to ignore her if that was the case. Not a word, nor a hello from him, only polite answers to his smiles.Either she lies to me or he does not nice. Egoistically, I would like her to lie to me, I will not have to support her and take care of her. I'm not good at that kind of thing.

Laura's face darkened before she froze completely, a disgusted expression distorting her thin mouth.

The latter - mouth - disappears completely in the whole of his face. I do not know why she never puts makeup on her lips, but it really contrasts with the rest. Without needing to look in her direction I know what she is attending. Silent torture begins, and I utter a slight sigh.

We're not close enough to advise her, and I'm not sure I'm good advice. I do not really know how she feels. I have never watched a boy as she seems to see him.

My eyes go down on my jeans, too wide with a pinch to the heart. 

I never liked, because no one has ever loved me. I believe that it is not enough to choose to love, it must also be received, and it is not me, the kind of off-generation girl, that could attract someone. I never really felt sad at the mention of a solitary future. 

I find it rather logical, constant. 

Compared to most of the girls here, my hormones do not control me.

Laura dodges a step back, and I look up to make sure that I have analyzed the situation. My eyes go from one to the other, looking for Kentin's familiar face. Personally, I do not know him, but I know exactly what he looks like. I first see his hand on a girl's light blue jeans. I know her too, at least I can tell you that her name is Cynthia, and that she hates me. Or despise me. Maybe both.His hand slips into his pocket, and I look away, embarrassed. My eyes go back slightly to see Kentin's mouth pressed against her lips. I turn to Laura when I hear a slight snort. I'm not sure why she wants to come here, every break, each day to see this show. Everyone knows she's falling on him, and he's been dating Cynthia for months.Basically, it hurts me a lot. 
Her voice trembles when she finally speaks to me.

- He ... He told me he could not ... You know she's a little ...

She stammers, miserably. When I look at her trying to convince me that he will end up keeping the promises he says in private, I feel sorry for her. 

She is not a bad person, and she does not deserve to wait tirelessly for something that will never happen.

- You want us go back inside, I propose.

She nods, without much conviction, unable to detach the eyes from their mouths. 

I sigh again, before gently taking her Arm. She resists slightly, as always, before going back a few steps.

I know she wants to wait until he looks up to reassure her. But I'm not sure he will. Sometimes it's true, he lifts his face and observes it. 

I do not really know what game he's playing, but one thing is certain, I really do not like it.

Laura's feet have missed several times the little steps that take us back inside the precincts of the college. I hold it several times before making sure I can to let her go alone. I do not expect her to thank me, she never does.

Our class starts soon, and I do not want to be late. Not having friends is one thing, missing one's education is another. Laura trots behind me, in silence. His silence is not new. I'm used to this kind of reaction, little bit devasted. 

All days always starts with criticism of his family, especially his father. Then she continues on Kentin's messages, before collapsing at the first break. The rest of the day is quieter. The two hours of classes before lunch are often the moment when she decides to play the card of mutism. Honestly, I like this part of the day, I can take refuge in the middle of my shelves to remember, without worrying to cheer him up. 

The meal is less friendly.

In any case, that's what I told myself again, pushing the doors of the cafeteria. We share places, kitchens and rations with high school students. And every day, I worry about having problems. It's not that I could not defend myself, quite the opposite. 

But I start from a very simple principle, never fight. 

I'm not anti-violence, I do not care to be honest or pacific. Each person chosen to act as he sees fit. I just can not beat myself and let myself get that adrenaline, as nice as it is. 

Because my memory will crystallize in millions of pieces to bring me out at the wrong time, the feelings, my angry and so perfect adrenaline... And then, thanks to this feeling, instead of bowing my head when girls like Cynthia insult me, I could will close my fist on her sweet face.

I'm not violent, but every emotion that I feel, even once in my life, echoes against walls of my mind, but instead of dying little by little, it intensifies, search again for this same sensation. As if to nourish or give reason to my memory.I always had the unfortunate tendency to know when something bad happened to me.And today, my belly is twisting much more than it should.

March 22 is not likely to be a quiet day.