LOVE LETTERS -- sex education

𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯

you looked nice today.
just as nice as the
day before and the
day before that, but
for the first time in
a long time you smiled.

a real smile that lit
my poor heart on fire.
burning my body
to the classroom floor
until i could no
longer keep my words
to myself. so here
i will write my love
for you.

and never once will
you read them. for you
have no reason to.
never once will you
know the extent of
my heart, because your
eyes do not recognise
it.

florence peterson enjoyed admiring from afar. everything looked prettier far away, didn't it?

that was her reasoning behind staying out of the cliques and the gossip within mooredale's walls, but the facts were simple. she was quiet and shy, and had never really fitted in at the school.

granted, florence had a few friends. eric effoing seemed to take a liking to her and maeve wiley was always quite nice. it was the opposite for people like ruby and anwar — the untouchables. they weren't mean, just oblivious to florence's existence. many others fell into this category, including jackson marchetti.

but florence liked jackson, far more than she should, and she never knew why.

so she started writing to him. little notes and thoughts, sometimes longer pages and even poems. a love letter never meant to be read.

tragical, really.