LETTER ONE
The first time I ever laid eyes on you it was that second day of our freshman year. I was the nervous nerd and you were the cocky jock who already knew the popular people because of football training. I remember admiring your aura of confidence that seemed to radiate off of you. I wanted to be like that, not the shy plain nobody that I really was. Everyone used to tell me that I just needed to forget being shy but I don't think they realized how it's not really that easy. You did, you understood that I couldn't help feeling insecure, but that's a story for another day.
It seems that everyone else had noticed how great you were, too. By the third day of high school you were all anyone could talk about. You were popular and the most 'gorgeous' guy in our grade, not that it was that hard when most of the freshmen boys were going through their terrible acne phase. You were the epitome of a stereotypical high school crush. I mean, really, you were like something out of a teen novel.
If I'm being honest, I didn't actually like you through freshman year. I didn't understand how great you were until the next year because, though I admired your confidence, I thought you were an ass. I believe my exact description was that you were '...an arrogant prick who didn't deserve that smile and confidence...' you were graced with. Now that I look back on this, I realize how I was just a self-righteous, jealous, know-it-all who didn't want to bother with getting to know you.
To me, you let the popularity get to your head. You may have been confident and good looking but you ignored everyone who was below you. Kudos for not picking on the nerds when everyone else did, but at the time it angered me that you still did nothing. I thought that by being a bystander you were just as bad. However, I didn't know you then like I do now.
At the time, I could have sworn that I'd hate you forever and if anyone would have told me that you'd be my best friend just over two years later, I'd have told them they were crazy.
Well, I guess I'm the one that turned out to be a little crazy... over you.
YOU ARE READING
Love, Your Storm
Short Story"Girls like you are the girls that storms are named after." Iris Parker is best friends with Carter Lane. Iris Parker is in love with Carter Lane. These are Iris Parker's personal letters to Carter Lane, telling him what he looks like through her...
