Dear Stanley [Watty's 2019. Completed]

Breeze's past

Monday, April 22nd

Dear Stanley,

I finally figured it out.

Why Breeze gets into her moods.

What has been haunting her ever since I first met her.

What caused the deep sadness in her eyes and the faint wrinkles on her face.

I figured it all out.

When I walked into English today, Breeze was talking about New York again to a group of kids around her. She seemed animated and excited, as if New York was one of her favorite places in the whole entire world.

I frowned. When I asked Breeze about New York the first time we ate lunch together, she seemed so upset. But here she was now, telling the whole wide world how amazing it was?

People clung to her every word as if it was the answer to life. And I could vaguely understand why. Our town was nothing like the big sparkly cities. Having someone move here from there is exciting. I understand why they'd want to know all about New York.

But what I don't understand is why she seems so excited to talk about New York with them but so sad to talk about it with me.

She had to have been hiding something.

So during lunch I bought the topic up.

We were sitting on our rock, eating our lunches when I decided it would be a good time. Breeze was wearing a sweater and light blue jeans - it was chilly outside. She kept pulling the sleeves of the sweater to cover her hands.

"Breeze, you were talking about New York with the other kids this morning." I stated. Like a fact. Breeze froze, her hand in the air as she was about to take a bite of her rice. It smelled devine, reminding me of the dinners Mom used to sometimes make on Friday's when you were around.

Her brown eyes widened and she nodded her head. "What about it?"

I could tell she was in a defensive mode. Her entire posture was frigid, frozen almost.

But I needed answers. I wanted to know what she was hiding.

"How come you never talk to me about it?" I asked gently. Trying to catch her eye. She was looking everywhere but me.

"Because...there's nothing good to tell you about it." She said. Her voice was trembling, like a see-saw. She looked frail and I wanted to hug her. Just remembering the hug from two days ago made me flushed.

But I had to stay on topic. I wanted to know why she talked about New York with everyone but me.

I needed to figure her out. She was like a mystery. I wanted to know if I could solve her.

"What do you talk to them about then?" I prod, crossing my arms over my chest.

Breeze looked like she could collapse any second. I hesitantly placed a hand on her back, feeling her warmth and bony structure. She jolted, as if I slapped her, and I moved my hand away, afraid I'd ruined something.

Instead she smiled and leaned into me. I put my arms around her eagerly, wanting more. Her head was against my chest and strands of her hair fluttered in the wind. I felt my heart beat fast.

"It's easy lying to them Nic. But I don't like lying to you." She whispered. I trailed my hands slowly up her sweater-covered-arms, creating small circles with my finger. I liked the way she reacted when I touched her, I could feel her leaning further into me. Relishing me. I held her tightly, trying to ignore the blood pumping through me. It was an amazing sensation.