[Highest Rank: #328]
Anna's a normal girl.
Well, at least she wishes she was.
She watched her parents die in front of her when she was eight years old. Ten years later, she's lived her life in ignorance, attempting to regain the childhood inn...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I carefully open the door to Anna's room and peer inside. She's fallen asleep at her desk again. I'm not surprised; after a long night of partying – she'd stayed there nearly the entire time, and I only managed to find her sitting outside after she called me – she came back and insisted on doing schoolwork. She never fails to impress me. Though I am curious about what she did, sitting on Milana's porch the entire night ...
Rowan Hawthorne would have never wasted his time talking to her outside when there was a party going on inside. There's no way that she could have passed the hours with him. Maybe she finally found new friends. But then again, that's also doubtful. Anna's never been good at keeping conversation. She always gets too nervous or too annoyed by the other person's condescending attitude towards her. Then what could she have done? She would have called earlier if she had been doing nothing at all.
I walk over to her desk and notice that her head is laying on a packet of papers labeled "Mentorship Notes." I press my lips together worriedly. She sure is putting in a lot of effort into that program, though it may or may not benefit her at all. Then again, Anna was always hardworking. She always wanted to prove that she was in no way inferior to others.
You know, the more you stay around someone as diligent as Anna, the more you start to realize that you're nothing compared to her. I feel bad – so bad – every time she looks at me with that admiring glint in her eyes. No one deserves that kind of look from her.
After placing her on her bed, I walk over to her desk to turn off the lamp, only to see that I'd missed something written on the paper that had been covered by her face before.
Rowan Hawthorne.
She scribbled the name down, and drew multiple question marks around it. I stare at the paper for a moment before glancing over my shoulder at Anna's sleeping form. Oh, Anna. What has he done to you?
Rowan Hawthorne doesn't show interest in girls. He doesn't have to. But ever since we were young and back when we were close, he'd always make blatant excuses to avoid running into Anna. I never realized why until later down the road. And then I learned that he knew he didn't deserve to be in her presence. I agreed.
So, why did he change his mind now? I sure haven't.
I turn the lamp off before walking out of Anna's room. Whatever the reason, I'll make sure that he can't lay a finger on her.
Anna walks into the kitchen the next morning, yawning drowsily. I can tell that she's not fully awake yet, from the way her eyes are drooping as she takes a seat at the table.
"Morning, sunshine," Grandma snickers at her.
"How ..." She looks over at Val, who's scrolling through her phone, and then me. "How did you guys wake up so early? I feel like I'm going to fall back asleep at any moment now."
