I looked into her eyes and saw the happiness radiating like the sun's rays. She bit her bottom lip and showed me the text message. It was from him and he was asking her to hang out. Yet the other day, he was locking lips with another girl underneath the hallway's secret corners.
My mouth opened up to tell her, but my heart yanked me back. I want to scream at her and shake her. What are you doing? Don't you see that he's playing with your feelings, as if you are a random flower he picked up on his way to her house?
"Isn't he cute?" She blushed and jumped onto the bean bag. Her fingers twirled a strand of hair as the other held the phone close to her face. The bright light crystallized her emotions.
"Can I tell you something?" I whispered quietly as if my voice was about to get arrested.
"Hm?" Her attention wandered between the walls and her phone.
"He—never mind."
"Okay?"
Honey, he likes you for your petals, not your thorns.
YOU ARE READING
therapy
Short Story"they told us that we needed therapy, as if medication and tainted words could fix broken toys."
