The secret

12 Friday, enlightenments

I walk through the crowd of people and towards Irene, who's waiting for me by the main entrance of my school. The stares from the people make me uncomfortable, and the crowd hasn't gotten smaller in recent days; if anything, it appears to be growing. Today, there are overwhelmingly many people looking at me, and it's disconcerting.

I take a deep breath, trying to focus on my breathing. Forcing the crowd to disperse would be preferable, but I lack the authority to do such a thing. To recapitulate my situation, I'm scared and being watched like a hawk.

By the time I reach Irene, I feel safer. The sense of security builds up rapidly, increasing with every inch I get closer. At least with her, I know someone has my back. She's close, not in camouflage like the security guard Justin hired for me. It's sweet that he decided to keep him with me, not because there's any need for him anymore, but because it makes me feel safer.

However, Irene wears an ebullient expression. She smirks, smiles, and everything all at once. The more I look at her, the more puzzled I become.

"What's up with you today?" I ask, trying to gather information.

"What's up with me? Haven't you seen Justin's new story on Instagram? By the way, orange is really your color," she answers, putting her arm around my shoulder as we walk into the building.

"What?" I ask, not knowing which part of his story she's referring to. The last time I checked his Instagram for updates, which was when I woke up, there was only one post—a picture of him on a plane. Has he posted something after that? And what have I worn that's orange?

"Oh god, you really haven't seen it. Go to his Insta and see for yourself. It was really cute, I promise."

Without thinking, I pull out my phone from my pocket and tap my way directly to his Insta. I take a deep breath and press play on his story.

A picture of me in a bikini, eating ice cream, fills up my screen, accompanied by the sweetest text ever.

'Never thought it was possible to miss someone this much, looking forward to seeing you, princess.'

I melt, engulfed by involuntary memories and an affinity for his words. I blossom resplendently under his words, like a delicate rose. My soft petals wait for him, eager to be touched, waiting to be cuddled.

There's an absurdity to how I'm feeling, an absurd intensity in how much I need him. It shouldn't be this way, I know that. It's too soon to say I love him romantically, but I know that love is growing. Like an emollient cream, he takes the pain away, he's a medicine, better than anything else.

"Are you crying?" I hear, like a muffled sound, as if I'm underwater.

"No," I say, or at least I don't think I am.

"I see tears welling up in your eyes. Are you sure you're okay? I thought it would make you happy," she asks, questioning, as we find our way to our seats.

"It does, it really does, but I guess it's because I miss him too."

"You act like you're married and haven't seen each other for years. It's been a week, Olivia."

"I know, but it feels like a lifetime. Without him, it's like time's moving in slow motion. Seconds feel like hours. You wouldn't understand."

"You really like him, don't you?"

"I've always liked him."

"Yeah, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah."

Mrs. Jenkins' class passes quickly, the day passes quickly but too slowly at the same time. But the day's over, and it's only the time it takes for me to walk out of this building that separates me from his arms. Irene is walking with me, but she's struggling to keep up with my pace.