Enter Leon. He's the school's nice guy and subtle player. He attracts girls with his sweet personality but with witty banter and intense green eyes, he can always leave the 'friend zone'.
Enter Bea. She's the classic nerd but proud of it. She tries...
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Welcome to Part 2 of LEON!
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I can't remember the exact date I first met Leon, but the last words I said to him were crystal clear, haunting my mind. Like I said it just yesterday.
In reality, our last real conversation (a.k.a. our fight) was a few weeks ago.
The weather's starting to get warmer, the rainy showers leaving us. I'm starting to see wildlife roam about the parks and nearby forests. Yesterday, I saw a baby robin hatch from its egg, the shells and strings of the nests falling to the ground.
Leon and I haven't reconciled our differences since that day. And there doesn't seem to be hope in sight.
Three days after our fight, I calmed myself down and stopped crying myself to sleep. My mom had to sleep beside me to ensure I was sleeping well throughout the night. She told me I screamed in the middle of the night...sometimes even his name. God, that's pathetic.
After a great debate with myself, I decided to be the bigger person and try to reach out subtly. I first tried to make some eye contact, but it didn't work very well because he could barely come near me in the halls. He doesn't even go in the library to study anymore. On my way to class the other day, I saw him studying near his locker. So he decided to deliberately avoid me.
Way to be mature, Leon.
But I don't give up. I would bait him because I know where his first period class is, so I wave at him when our paths cross. I think it scared him, so he quickened his pace to avoid the awkward situation. I was about call after him, but he disappeared without a trace.
Another time, I was at the café buying an iced latte, and I saw him in the corner on his laptop. When I picked up my drink, I turned to look at him, but I ended up staring at his back as he darted out of the café. How does he do that?
I thought giving him this space to reflect on his actions and understand my perspective would help him, but all it has done is make me anxious. Anxious about whether he'll pick up a new routine without me. Anxious whether he really needed me in the first place. Anxious whether he still cares about me, even after what happened.
I'll never admit it out loud, but I still miss him and care about him.
The silly jokes and friendly smile always brought up my mood. Just one simple smile could change my bad mark to something I could work on harder. It gives me that boost to move on with my life because I can't really do anything about it.
