Too Much Love

~ An Angel ~

The only one who's made me happier than I've ever been. The only one who's made me feel at home, who's made me feel so proud of myself that I feel that I am going to burst of pride and confidence and happiness. It's impossible to contain my excitement and avoid blushing profusely whenever she approaches me with that same glow in her dark green eyes and that sweet smile that ensures it's going to be a wonderful day.
It wasn't always like this. I still remember the days she'd approach me with a deep hatred in her eyes, and a sinister grin that ensured I was 100% screwed.
"Hey there, Stephy! How's the acne treatment working?" Before I can even open my mouth to answer, she decides she knows my life more than I do. "Oh, dear, looks like it's not doing much, is it? Don't worry. I used to be a pathetic loser just like you! I still remember the old elementary days of using Build a Cringe cream before discovering the beauty of Actual Acne Treatment." Receiving Vietnam flashbacks of my old confrontations with this girl, I roll my eyes and walk away. I already know what'll happen if I do anything else.
Nobody tries to stand up to Angie Williams. Unless, of course, you plan to go home crying your eyes out and screaming to numb the pain while the never ending voices echo in your head to remind you of all the negativity in your life. That's exactly how being bullied by Angie feels. You feel worthless and disgusting, and like there's a ticking bomb in your head telling you to run, unless you want to be surrounded by complete darkness. I can only imagine being in a dark room, no lights to guide me out of the depression, as I am forced to walk on my own. I'll fall every once in a while, sure. But it's my decision whether I want to get back up or not.
Do I want to continue putting up with their nonsense, with their words, with their threats?
Or not?

But thank god she's not like that anymore.
Angie is the sweet girl in class that you look at and can instantly tell that she would make a great friend. She has those big, wholesome green eyes that swallow you, hurling you high into the sky as all of your worries disappear, and you have every ability and every right to soar through the air without exchanges of weird looks or suspicious whispers or taunting points. Those eyes give you power the instant you look into them. She has that adorable little smile, the smile that gives you the privilege to look into your future, as you see yourself happy, cheerful, in love, living in a beautiful house with a successful job. It's the perfect smile that gives you reassurance, that gives you an epiphany and a New Year's resolution in the middle of July. The desire to change, and make yourself a better person.
She even has that one special thing, that most would say ruins the smile, takes away the reassurance, and the motivation to improve your lifestyle. It defeats the purpose of the smile, it defeats her good looks, it defeats her purpose of trying to look attractive to all the other high schoolers.
And anyone who really thinks that needs a serious reality check.
I would do anything to know how to smile so much, to feel so motivated, to feel so happy all of the time, despite having one of the dorkiest qualities any animal can have: braces.
Angie has serious talent to pull off something like that. There is no other girl in the school with braces or glasses or any other dorky element as positive and joyful as Angie is. No other girl.

If only I knew how to tell her how I feel.

You never know when a changed person still has that negative, nasty, rude old side of them deep down inside. And you never know when or if they'll ever turn to that side again. All it takes is one wrong move to trigger it, and ruin absolutely everything between you two.
It'll be like old times sake. Looking into her eyes and thinking of how I was once soaring, not caring about what anyone thought of me, and seeing nothing but joy and sunshine. Suddenly, crashing, speeding to my doom, like my body can't wait to see the grave, and go tumbling down into it, like my time had come. Looking into that smile, and no longer seeing a bright future ahead of me, but instead seeing a broken family, me living all alone in a rundown apartment, a huge target for any mean workers there who enjoy kicking out people who have unstable jobs, unable to afford to live there anymore.

"Stephanie?" I jump, swerving around to be greeted by the tall, slim giraffe that is our librarian. I felt the lump in my throat go down as I looked up at her face, her narrowed eyes glaring right into my soul. "Were you paying any attention to the reading? Or were you too busy drooling on my table while you were asleep to discuss whose fault it was that Romeo and Juliet killed themselves?"
A shiver rushes down my spine, keeping my eyes locked onto hers and making sure not to break eye contact despite desperately wanting to.
Once I finally come to realization and glance around the room, at the other students, and at my slimy drool on the table, I frantically wipe it up. Slowly looking at Mrs. Borna again, I gulp, "I was sleeping miss. I'm sorry." I don't dare to look behind me where Angie is sitting. If only she saw how red my face was, she'd mistaken me for a tomato and bite right into my fur.
"Well, since you're so full of yourself that you think sleep's more important than the lovebirds' suicides for each other, maybe you can explain whose fault it is that they died."
"Um, actually Mrs. Borna," a student spoke up, "they aren't lovebirds. Hell, this is hardly a love story at all. What's so heavenly and romantic about two whiny little teenagers thinking they know what love is, only to cause several deaths upon both houses?"
"Exactly!" Another piped up.
The first student continued, "oh, and by the way, sleep is extremely critical for the mind and body. Or, at least a tiny bit more important than said whiny teenagers falling in love and having an affair. Just thought I'd let you know."
"Very funny, Meghan," the giraffe groaned.
I glanced over at Meghan, her coffee brown fur looking edible enough to eat. I cracked a little smile as a sort of thank you without interrupting the stern librarian's lecture. But I guess she either didn't see me or ignored me, because she opened her book right back up, pretending to flip through the pages like she was paying attention.
I turned around like a snail and glanced at Angie, her fur practically blowing in the nonexistent wind. I could see her, smiling, beaming, blushing, and flipping through all the pages. She was sitting up straight, looking at the librarian, and back down at the story occasionally. Whether she was acting or not, she was pretty damn good at paying attention. It's like she can do everything I can't. Here I am, falling asleep and drooling like the foolish characters in those generic cartoons, while Angie is ready and eager to learn, like she hasn't been at school in years. Here she was, all of her focus on the "love" story of Romeo and Juliet, like she was genuinely intrigued in it. And meanwhile, I'm sitting over here, giving her a lovestruck gaze and nearly fainting, drooling mindlessly once again.
But this time, it's not because I'm dozing off.

"I'm amazed you aren't bored of that story yet," I say, gathering my things from my locker.
"What's wrong with it?" Angie blinks, curiosity filling her gorgeous eyes.
"Nothing, nothing!" I nearly shout. "I just, I mean, we've, kind of, well, I mean..." I stop myself in realization of my embarrassing stutter. "We've been reading it for two weeks now, y'know?"
"So? I'm happy, personally," she beams. "Not only is it easy, but it's such an enjoyable story, too!"
"But...people die in it."
"Which is something you don't see often," she replies matter-of-factly. "When's the last time a main character died in a story you read?"
I quickly pretend to zip my mouth shut and nod my head in agreement, just so I don't have to argue with the most gorgeous, lovable, angelic girl I've ever met in my entire life. She grins playfully, and giggles a little. Holding her binder and with her backpack hanging over her shoulders, Angie slams her locker shut and grabs my paw. Instantly I can feel that sourness fill my cheeks, pouring in a warm, fresh, lovestruck feeling that lightens my heart everytime it happens. The soft, furry, attractive panda looks deep into my ugly blue eyes and mutters quietly, almost like a whisper, "let's go."
And she smiles.