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Authors: Jasmine Rose

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BOOK: A Unique Kind of Love
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5

She Said, He Said

 

“A little crazy is good.”

 

 

 

Lena Rose Winter

 

Two weeks later.

 

My stomach grumbled. I clutched my abdominal muscles to stop the noise of a dying whale.  The bell rang, signaling lunch time. I was happy dancing, from the inside. 

 

"Go on, run you little whore." 

 

The words made me freeze. I turned around, toward the owner of the voice. My eyes widened.

 

A group of boys were huddled around me, and...Jonah? He was lazily leaning against a locker, a huge smirk plastered on his face. My eyebrows pulled up. What was this, some kind of a joke?

 

"What did you say?" I asked slowly, as if I was talking to a child. 

 

"Didn't you hear me? I said you were a whore. I bet your car accident made you just a little bit deaf." 

 

His words made me gasp loudly. How did he know? I clenched my teeth, “Oh, so, that’s what happens when a girl loses interest in you, Jon-ass?”

 

He ignored me. "Or is it the fact that your daddy died? Poor little Rosie."  

 

My breath caught in my throat.

 

Rosie.

 

He used the name my father once called me. How did he know that? To begin with, how did he know about the accident? Everything was known during elementary school but now, years later and far away, it was more of a secret. And the look of pity that used to be in people’s eyes was now nonexistent. 

 

Jonah took his time walking towards me and before I knew it, he was just inches away. I stayed silent, not knowing what to expect. I observed him. His face was full of malice and hate. I felt the bubble of dislike and annoyance form into something much stronger. Almost, hate.

 

His hands reached out to tuck a strand of my hair. I flinched and stepped away from him.  

 

"Don't you dare touch me! How the hell do you know about my accident?" I cried out.   

 

Now, I felt like the whole school was surrounding us. Every eye was glued on Jonah and me.  

 

"Let's say I have my sources."  

 

"Oh, so you stalked me?" 

 

He winked, and I wanted to puke. "I call that investigating, babe."  

 

He kept advancing towards me, and I kept backing up. I felt so alone. No one was there to defend me. I felt anger boil in my veins. It was time to practice my black belt karate skills.  

 

Crack.

 

I punched him in the face.

 

The whole crowd gasped and then they started cheering for me. I felt my heart smile in satisfaction. But my face stayed expressionless. I could already feel a bruise forming on my fist, although, this was the least of my worries.

 

"This will teach you not to mess with me, or my family, you freaking douche bag." 

 

With that, I let my spit land on him. 

 

♥♥♥♥♥

 

It was funny how easily people could abandon you.

 

Stacy had been ignoring me all week and when I talked to her, she put her head down, as if she was ashamed of me. I gave up on her and simply ate my lunch alone now.

 

Having decided I wasn't going to mope around all weekend, I decided to go to the park. I put a huge hoodie, my favorite comfortable sweats, and my Ugg boots. My hair was in a messy braid and my face was make-up free. I couldn't care less about how I looked. I had my camera around my neck and that was all that mattered.  

 

"Mom! I'm going to the park!" I shouted, hoping she'd hear me.

 

"Okay, darling!” she replied, shouting louder than I had, “Love you!"

 

I stuffed my phone in my pocket and put the headphones in my ear. I walked as far as my feet could take me. Then I arrived at Ridgefield Park.

 

It was my own personal heaven.

 

Many golden hues formed the color of the leaves that lay scattered all around. Young laughter rang out everywhere. Some passed time as they jumped on a heaped pile of discarded leaves. I was walking, admiring the view, oblivious to the sound of crunching under my feet as I walked a well-trodden path. A slight breeze whispered along the trees and teased more leaves into releasing their tentative hold. Deeply engrossed in feeding a little bird, an old woman didn't notice a wayward leaf on her head.

 

I smiled, something that was rare to me during the last couple of days. I felt happy,
so happy.

 

I tried to capture every fleeting moment. Everything. From the flock of birds flying to a warmer place, to children playing tag. From the beautiful trees releasing their hold on the orange, red and yellow leaves, to an old couple holding hands, concentrating only on each other.

 

I remembered what Dad had said at one point.

 

"Every single piece of life needs to be remembered. Every moment, sadness or joy, in this big world can never be forgotten. Everything had its own remarkable beauty, it has to be captured. This is a photographer's job. If you do this, you have the whole world in your hands. In your camera."

 

My eyes welled with tears and I felt my knees go wobbly at the thought of him, so I sat under the biggest tree in the park. I protectively put my arms around my knees and placed my head over them.

 

I cried, and cried.

 

I blew on all 10 candles happily. I was ecstatic. Everyone cheered and gave me a hug. After eating the delicious chocolate cake, my dad told me to put on my snow wear. I was confused, but I obliged. He took my hand and we went to the backyard where snow was everywhere. In his hands were small bags.

 

Out of nowhere, he lifted me up and spun me around. I giggled, joining my father's resounding laughter. He put me down and then squatted to be on my level.

 

"Happy birthday, Rosie! You're a double-digit number now, do you know what that means?" He asked seriously.

 

"No daddy, what does that mean?" I said, curiosity building inside me.

 

He took the package and gave it to me. I hastily opened it to find a brand new Canon camera. I gasped and looked at it as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world. I gave my dad a tight hug, as his eyes beamed with excitement.

 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you so so much, daddy! I'll treasure it forever and ever," I told him.

 

He smiled at me in admiration.

 

I closed my eyes at the memory.

 

This was the first time I felt weak in days.  But I was tired of having to hold it all in, to seem so strong all the time. Hot tears kept flowing down my cheeks, they seemed unstoppable. I tried to wipe them away, but that only made them fall harder.

 

Everything was because of me, everything.

 

After what seemed like a lifetime and I'd cried all the tears in my body and let them dry on my face, I was pretty sure I looked like a zombie. I quickly untangled my braid and let my hair loose on my head. I lifted up my gaze and let my eyes scan the scenery in front of me. Everything seemed normal, yet something caught my eye.

 

There was a boy, sitting underneath the tree across from mine. He was holding a sketchbook and... Drawing? Every once in a while, he would look up, directly at me.

 

He seemed handsome, with a face practically begging for his picture to be taken. I took a quick shot of him and then looked away. I studied the photo closely.

 

It was Liam.

 

I didn't know why, but my feet dragged me towards him. His eyebrows pulled up a little when I arrived, as if I was interrupting him from doing something important. I sat beside him.

 

Silence filled the air. Although, it wasn't an awkward silence, it was comfortable. I took a peek at his work. There was a girl, looking sad; her head was on her knees. There was a messy, yet perfectly drawn braid. Beside her, a camera was lying on a heap of leaves. Under the drawing, there were two perfectly written words. I gasped.

 

Intrigued and shocked, I looked at him. His blue eyes were observing me, waiting for my reaction.

 

"I-Is that me?" I asked, hoping the answer was yes.

 

His head bobbed down.

 

I immediately felt stupid after the next question I asked. "I'm Lena, and you're Liam, right?" The head action repeated.

 

“How’s your grandma?”

 

He nodded again.             

 

Why wasn't he answering me? "Did I do something wrong?" I inquired, fearing his answer.

 

He put his head down and shook his head. Was he embarrassed about something?

 

On the spur of a moment, it clicked in my head. He was mute.

 

My eyes widened and I apologized. "I'm so sorry; I didn't mean it like that."

 

Something flickered in his eyes. He scribbled down:
No pity, please
.

 

I nodded, understanding. I knew how he felt.

 

"No, I hate pity too. Do you mind if I join you?"

 

He instantly relaxed and shook his head as a
"no".
I felt relief flood me.

 

I leaned my head on his firm shoulder. My head fits perfectly along its contours. He was warm. He continued drawing, it was a new one.

 

I closed my eyes and savored the moment. A million thoughts were running through my head. And his, if what I felt was right. My heart kept screaming something, but I ignored it. All I could think about were the scribbled words under his drawing. A drawing of
me
. Two words that made me feel confused, yet strangely happy:

 

True Beauty.

 

6

Freedom

 


The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.”

~Carl Jung~

 

 

 

Lena Rose Winter

 

Sleeping has always been one of my all-time favorite things in the world, but how comfortable I was at the moment was unreal.

 

I opened my eyes and regained my memory of what happened. I gasped at the realization that I had fallen asleep beside Liam. I touched my cheek,
was there any drool
? I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. There was no drool. I was okay.             

 

"Liam? You fell asleep? Oh god, oh god. I fell asleep."             

 

His eyes were closed and he looked so peaceful. I admired him a bit.
Beautiful
, was all I could think. His eyelashes were long. Maybe he wasn't sleeping? Hell, even
I
fell asleep. His eyes fluttered open. He smiled when he saw me. I laid my hand on my hair, self-consciously. Did I really look that bad?             

 

He had a childlike appearance. His hair had managed to get messy. "Good afternoon, sleepyhead," I said, my lips tugging a bit.             

 

He scribbled something on his sketchbook and then showed it to me:
if anyone slept here, it was you.             

 

I felt a blush rise to my cheeks and put my head down. Why did I have to sleep?
Really.
It seemed as if embarrassment followed me everywhere, especially whenever he was there.              

 

"What time is it?" I asked, changing the subject.              

 

He pointed at his wristwatch, which displayed:
7:00
. I let out a curse in shock and fear. My mom was going to be worried, hell, knowing my mom, she might have already called the police. I got up and started jumping up and down anxiously.             

BOOK: A Unique Kind of Love
4.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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