Eight years ago was when my life changed. Eight years ago was when a little boy named Noah moved next door. Eight years ago, was when I fell in love.
Noah and I became best friends as soon as his last box was unloaded, a time when the socialites of high school did not bog us down. Now being a sophomore in high school, and me being me, I haven’t exactly told Noah how I’ve felt...yet. I know, I know, I’m totally pathetic and I’ve let the entire female population down by not standing up for what I love, or in this case, who I love. But on the bright side, our friendship is as strong as ever, and I can talk to him about basically anything, which is good. At least, I think it is.
From one person to another though, let me give you some friendly advice. If you really love something, don't just sit back on your ass and get fat, go out there and fight for it! Because as someone who has fell victim to the awful distraction of what our current generation calls a television, I know what it's like to miss out on an opportunity. Being trapped in the "friend zone" sure does suck.
(*Sorry I'm really bad at summaries, but trust me you won't regret reading this!!!)
Maya has spent five dreadful months in the psychiatric hospital recovering. One she finally is released she is forced back into her boring life. But will things really be so boring still when she meets 'bad-boy' Noah Dalton?
He is annoying, rude and always around Maya for reasons she can't understand. Maya is brave, yet also afraid that her choices could lead her spiralling back into a bad place again. Will Noah be able to save her from herself? Or will he be the cause of her destruction?
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~Noah's pov~
'These,' I slowly run my finger across one of her scars, 'are fucking beautiful.'
Before she can object, I carry on.
'Maya you are beautiful beyond perfection. You are strong. You are brave. You are funny. You are sweet. You are incredible. Look at yourself,' I nod down towards the scars on her arm and she slowly glances down at them before meeting my gaze again, 'those scars are beautiful. Do you know why?' I ask her.
She wipes a tear from her already tear-stricken face before she shakes her head.
'Because every time you decided to do that to yourself, you didn't go further, you didn't end your life. You decided to carry on living even when you thought you couldn't manage it. Those scars right there,' I gesture to them again, 'show the battles you won against yourself. They are your battle-scars and you shouldn't be ashamed of them. And you know what? I am so proud of you for making it to where you are today because you are a fighter and If I can see that, anyone can.'