[High school romance]
Bad girl x good boy
"Don't be shy, Boris. If you want me to do something, to do something to you, to touch you the certain way or something else, you should just ask and I'm gladly going to do it. But don't be shy and embarrass...
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Before I would enter any classroom I would first check if Boris was in it because I never know with whom and which class exactly I have. So, I spent a couple of periods just hanging out in the library, so I don't have to deal with Boris' pity looks.
One period I even spent in the back of the yard where one kind guy whose name I have forgotten lent me a cigarette and I was feeling so good while inhaling that toxic scent that made me giddy and sleepy, though I didn't let it fool me because I know better than to surrender to the dreamland which doors are never opened for me.
I was extremely careful not to bump into Boris nor his blonde friend whose name I didn't know for so long before... No, don't get me wrong, I knew that he existed, especially after a certain encounter of ours, but I never knew his name. As you could see, I'm bad with names. Whenever I'm reading a book I have to go back to where the names of the characters are mentioned for hundred times, so I can memorize them, and just when I do, I come to the end of it. That reminds me of the book Boris gave me back.
I take it out of my backpack and try to find where I stopped reading, since when I was in the library I read something else, not daring to touch something that his precious and pure hands touched, too. I bet that he would never touch the book if he knew how dirty I am. That he would never touch me.
I realize that my bookmark is gone. Though something else pays my attention. There are some quotes highlighted with a yellow marker, and some notes written with a pencil. What the hell is this? I haven't seen this while I was reading the book for the first time. I know, that I said how I'm bad with names, but I remember what I saw. And even if I'm exhausted, I would probably remember if I've either seen them or written them, but I know that it wasn't me who wrote them. These notes just didn't exist when I took the book from the god-forgotten shelf.
I frown, as I flip pages aggressively and so strongly that I almost tear them. The book is genuinely new, it's not the old vintage sort of novel, so the pages are strongly tied to the spine, not sensitive to touch embraced by that special scent that I've grown to love so much.
No, this isn't happening. No, this is not what I'm thinking it is. No way. I would rather believe that my tired mind forgot what it saw than this. This isn't happening.
He hasn't read the book. He hasn't.
Don't ever lose hope as Stella did, I read in chapter five where Stella explains how the man in her first foster family almost raped her, saying how she is blondie with no hope.
Don't do drugs even if someone offers you, even if they tell you as Christopher said to Stella that it would take the pain away, it says and before I finish reading the whole sentence my vision gets blurred because of the tears that are filling my eyes rapidly.
He read everything in one day, one night actually, and even wrote these notes to make sure to tell to me not to take some things from characters. He did it... Why? For me? Is that really what happened? A sob escapes my mouth, and I cover it with my palm, as my vision gets even more blurred, when I move my gaze from the book's pages full of notes written with the soft and sharp pencil.
