Saahirah Wilson.
I'm standing next to my Mom when she walks into the hall. The ceremony just ended and we're having a conversation with my homeroom teacher.
I can't deny that my heart flutters a little when I see her and that relief crashes into me. Because if she's here then that means she doesn't hate me.
She looks beautiful. She's wearing dark brown tailored pants with a white shirt and a blazer the same colour as the pants. The shirt's unbuttoned at the top and she looks as if she owns the world.
Her hands are shoved into her pockets and my heart lightens when she smiles at me. It's that smile. The one I love so dam much. The one specially reserved for me.
She walks over, calm and confident as always. She hugs my Mom, before asking to borrow me. She's got my hand and is dragging m
