Lunch time was troublesome. Students came to hear Takara's story and ask a million questions. Takara refused to answer them and sent them away.
I kept blushing every time he met my gaze. Why was I so nervous? It was just a kiss. He was dying. I felt bad for him.
I didn't like him that way.
"Brooklyn," Takara looked at me with empty eyes. "My landlords kicked me out of the house last night, calling me an imposter. Do you know anyone willing to take me in?"
I had twenty names who would take him but something shouted 'No! Take him in! Please!'
"No," I said as my cheeks flared. "But my house has a guest room. Y-you can stay there."
He bowed slightly. "Thank you."
YOU ARE READING
What I'm Not
Teen FictionAfter Takara is killed in a Subway shooting, Brooklyn fears that she has lost her friend. That is, until he showed up at her door for school. Now adopted into the family, Takara is starting to act strangely.
