The Girl Who Reads

Chapter 9 - He Does

Today, while waiting for Austin, not only do I get dressed, I also check the stats of my novel. while it hasn't exactly blown up, it says there are 10 consistent and returning readers. it's small progress, but it makes me happy none-the-less. I think to myself: 'Maybe I'm finally on that path to becoming a writer, whether it be big or small.' then I get dressed, wearing a forest green heather material sweater, black leggings that keep me warm, white socks and brown Timberland boots. I also put on a maroon coloured beanie and an insulated jacket. winter has creeped closer and closer these past few days.

And unfortunately, while at school, all of us in the Reading Club received some unfortunate news from Principal Geoffrey's:

"I want to apologise, to all of you, that this month there will be no Reading Competition. one of the judges got salmonella, and because the rules state that all 3 judges must be present, they weren't able to go ahead with it. I'm really sorry guys," he said to us apologetically. 

it definitely put me and the others out for a bit. but honestly, I actually kind of dont care anymore. If I never hurt that girl, was never forced to help Austin with his English- even though, in reality, I helped him in a different way, I might never have gotten another chance to see that, just like everyone, he's simply a regular person, like the rest of us. and I might never have seen him in such a light to...well, actually develop feelings for him. but I hope he feels the same.

When I get downstairs, mum asks where I'm headed, I say to her,

"I have a friend whose taking me to a hiking trail." when she asks what his name is and I tell her, she gets this suspicious parent look. I reassure her, saying,

"Don't worry, we aren't dating. he doesn't see me that way. at least, I dont think he does.""Well, even if you do start going out, just be careful, Ok?"

I nod. Then I turn to leave but stop. I reflect, think. ever since dad died last year from the bear, I haven't really talked to mum. the occasional hug, hello, sure. but it's been awhile since we actually talk talked. feeling I should apologise, I turn around, say,

"Mum?"

"Yes, honey?" she asks from the kitchen.

"I want to say I'm sorry." she turns to me.

"Sorry? whatever for?"

I explain. "It's just, I know we haven't been super close since dad died. barely talked, only here and there. and I guess, I simply wanted to tell you that I'm...well...sorry, for not speaking to you more," I shrug awkwardly. mum comes over to me and says,

"Oh, sweetie. come here." she grabs me in a tight but warm hug. it feels good. she raises my head to look down at me and says,

"You have nothing to be sorry for. your dads death was unexpected, for all of us. we all experience grieving and mourning differently. you're just handling the situation as best you can. so am I. so no Nora. dont apologise. dont apologise for something you, nor any of us could control. if your father were here, he would tell you exactly what I'm telling you now, if the situation as reversed. ok?" she says kindly, gently and warmly. I let her words sink in. after a few minutes say,