Iris Callum never fit into the constructs of society. Since she was a little girl, she was always known as an outsider, whether that be in school, at home, or in daily life. Even though it never really bothered her that she was different from everyo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
***Iris***
Weeks had gone by since we had gone to The Black Doves concert. Ginger's spirits had lightened since she too found a similar note in her bag as had been in mine, from Matteo. Unlike me though she decided to leap at the chance and call him. Since then, they had been in constant communication.
I wanted to ask her if she could find out how Noah was, but I didn't. The one time I hinted at the suggestion she told me to pick up and call, but again, I didn't. I felt like I couldn't. It frightened me how much I thought about him, how every little thing made me think of him. I didn't even really know him, but not a moment went by since we met that he wasn't on my mind.
I kept telling myself that it was just a crush, that it would fade away over time, but I knew in my heart that it wasn't true. This, whatever this was, it felt like it was more than just some measly crush. It felt like some long-term connection that I would never be able to shake, the kind that a person could never forget.
So, instead of constantly asking her how he was doing, where they were, what he was up to etc, I decided to try taking a different route. So now, instead of torturing myself further I just asked Ginger to avoid bringing up anything that had to do with them while she was around me.
Currently, we were both in school, English class to be more specific. Ginger, even though she was seated right next to me, had her attention elsewhere, as she ogled at her phone. There was no need in guessing who she was talking to.
"Miss Guyette." The teacher called. I looked to Ginger who was still preoccupied with her phone. Nudging her to get her attention she looked up, finally acknowledging the teacher that stood directly in front of her.
Mrs. Burns was an African American woman with Large brown cat-eye rimmed glasses and neatly braided hair. Today she decided to where a bright olive-green t-shirt and black dress pants, better than her usual floral attire.
"I assure you Miss Guyette, that whatever is on your phone can't be more intersting than this lesson." Mrs. Burns told her, pointing to the whiteboard reading :The Elements of Literature. I pursed my lips, trying not to laugh. Ginger didn't offer as much restraint.
