names

words

he walked into school monday feeling everything and nothing all at once.

not once did he catch sight of freak all day.

part of him was concerned as to why and the other was glad that he didn't have to face her.

she hates me anyway.

loser carried his belongings close to his chest as he made his way outside after the last bell and tried to busy himself with thoughts, but he couldn't stop thinking about her.

he thought back to her hazel tendrils that swung loosely at her shoulders.

god, she is gorgeous.

he could even imagine her face, it was as clear and as vivid as if he were staring right at her.

and in that moment, he realized he was.

there she was standing with her back towards him facing the road parallel to the school.

"hey!" he called anxiously. she seemed oblivious to his call and the apparent rain falling around her.

even from the distance, he could tell she was shivering and soaked.

he slipped his backpack off his shoulder and grabbed the hoodie he had shoved in earlier.

he ran over to her.

"hey," her eyes were puffy and deep mauve circles clung to the bottom of them. she clutched her sides and stared straight at him.

he slid his arm over her shoulder and walked her back to the roof covered sidewalk.

"here, put this on," he said to her, slowly handing him his hoodie. for a moment, she stared at him apprehensively, then she took it and pulled it over her head.

he smiled upon seeing her snuggled inside his sweater.

"c'mon, i'll drive you home," he reached for her hand but she drew it back immediately.

"i- can we go somewhere else... i just... i- don't want to go back right now," she stammered.

"okay then. you can come hang with me then," he said trying extremely hard to be as cool as possible.

the corners of her mouth drew back slightly, and she took his hand.

***

she bit the inside of her lips and stared at the various posters curiously.

"welcome to ma chambre."

every inch of the walls were taken up by clippings from manga to comics.

surprisingly, the room was well kept. not a single speck of dust could be found on anything and his hardwood floor was not strewn with laundry. an old desk sat opposite the door and faced a grand bay window. on the desk sat miniature shelves and a laptop. to the left of the room was a bed: gray comforter, gray sheets, gray pillows. to the right was a grand, old bookshelf spilling with books and trinkets. sitting in the far right corner was a white dresser with silver handles. atop it were various photos of smiling family members and--who she presumed was-- young loser.

"wow," she whispered faintly.

he plunked down into the black leather spinny chair by his desk, as she awkwardly shuffled and set on the edge of his bed.

his face grew less happy and more serious.

"do you want to talk about what happened saturday?" he asked slowly.

"oh... sorry... i didn't mean to miss it. i wanted to go but... stuff happened."

she sat on her hands and looked down at her worn flats.

he sighed and studied her for a few minutes and the silence between them kept company.

after some time, he walked over to the bed and sat beside her. she continued to look down and bite her bottom lip which was starting to give her mouth a metallic taste.

then he leaned towards her and planted a small peck on her cheek.

she started to smile, but it quickly faded. she heard the mockery in her head.

loser, you are a loser. an unlovable loser for that matter

however one thought prevailed.

but he loves me.

she took his face in her hands and closed the slim space between them.