1. Looser
1296 Words
I have no idea how many times I have read the exact same sentence since last twenty minutes.
It seems like I can't concentrate ahead in my book since the moment I diverted my focus towards the glass window.
I turn my head to the said window once again, the two figures have long vanished from that place. The spot is empty now.
"Dear teachers, students, parents and guardians please gather in the auditorium, the ceremony will soon take place in fifteen minutes, thank you."
I know that will be the final announcement, so I close the book and set it aside. Collecting my things, I put them back in my bag and hang it across my shoulder as I stand up from the wooden chair. I pick up the lying book and walk over to the shelves to place it back to its original spot.
As I reach there, I slip the book in its place and then.....stop.
Feeling stuffy, I just stand there for a moment, reluctant to leave. I have always wanted to complete school. I have waited for this day to come with chipping nails and calender marks yet when the day has finally arrived, I just can't seem to bring myself to entirely cut away from this place. This part of the school.
The library.
I feel happy today yet emotional too. I want to leave but at the same time I don't. I don't know if it even makes any sense. I think this is what people call having 'mixed feelings'.
I look at my surroundings, the tall shelves with books with their own scents and stories to tell, each one with their own face, each one with their own voice and language, each have their own way to convey, each with their own meanings.
Just like human beings.
I never thought that a part of this school will become so close to me that I'll feel unable to leave, it's laughable, but I am glad that I won't only have bad feelings when I'll think back of this phase. That no matter what I have gone through in this school, I still have some happy memories to pack. I may not have any friends but this library isn't any less to me.
I'm going to miss you.
"Luke!"
I break away from my thoughts and cringe upon hearing that familiar voice calling my name.
I don't answer though.
"Luke Wood, I know you're here!"
Grimacing, I tighten my hand around the strap of my bag and slowly walk out from the place behind the last second shelf.
As soon as I step in her line of view which is just at the front, with me at the end of the library and her on the entrance, she comes bouncing towards me. As always.
I can see her white ankle boots from between her fluttering red graduation gown that matches my own but is currently resting in my bag as she hurries over.
Slowly, I look up from my hood to catch her cap placed neatly on her golden blond head, her narrow hazel eyes outlined artfully as it compliments her pretty little face dusted with freckles at the bridge of her straight nose following which, are a pair small pink lips. All in all, she's stunning to the point of being a goddess.
When she covers the remaining distance and finally comes to a stop in front of me, I do the most unthinkable thing.
I inhale.
The unintentional action lands me in a web of the most delicious scent I have ever smelled.
It isn't her. No.
It's that smell or perfume she has on.
Purple asters.
I can breathe in its crushed foliage scent forever and can detect it anywhere.
But it isn't just that. There is something more to it. Something much, much better than purple asters, and that's saying something.
I keep looking at her idiotically without realising she's staring at me too.
When her left hand comes up to wave at my eyes, I finally blink back at the sudden gesture, feeling sheepish and foolish at the same time.
"You've really beautiful eyes." She breathes those words in a soft voice.
My brows shoots up at her gentleness and I swallow uncomfortably.
She's always like this.
She's always gentle and cute and encouraging and perfect.
Things that she sure as hell isn't in reality.
Her name is Rhea.
And just that, the gentleness and softness ends there. Only in her name. While everything about her is total opposite.
She joined the school at the same time I did, and ever since she's never taken the first step to come forward and make friends, but that behavior never lacked her any. It was always others who came begging to be her friend and why won't they? After all, she's off the charts beautiful, belongs to a rich family and a straight A student.
These are a few lines how people describe her as, however, if you want to express her personality in a single go?
Just one word, b***h.
That is the real her.
In reality, she's a rebellious, uncontrollable teenager who speaks however it pleases to her and the whole world is aware of the fact because thats what she wants everyone to know.
She knows she's perfect so she can do whatever she wants, just like a little kid whose parents tell him to do his homework and clean his room and then he can do whatever he wants to do.
She's just on another level.
Yet despite of all those things, I am an exception to her.
Yes, me of all people.
"Why are you here? Don't you want to graduate?" She arches one perfect eyebrow with a tilt of her head.
"Of course, I want to." I mumble to myself.
"Then what are you waiting for? C'mon let's go." Hearing my low tone, she extends her hand to place it on my shoulder but I instantly sidestep, leaving it hanging in the air. Her scent is messing with my brain.
"I'll go on my own, you should leave." I know it's rude but I don't want her company, I never asked for it.
She's the one who always comes to me, talks to me but I never respond. I feel uncomfortable with her around, it's like facing my deep buried fear and I can't do that. I'm unable to do that. I have no courage.
"Really?" With both hands placed on her hips like a strict teacher she questions, pretending my rejection to her touch never happened.
Ignoring her, I move towards another shelf and skim through the rows of books as I lift my wrist to check out the time on my watch.
Still five minutes.
However, she's persistent and comes to stand right beside me without any warnings and on reflex—I immediately jump away upon feeling the sudden closeness. When my eyes meet hers, I can read the shock in them. Taking a deep breath, I slowly take a few steps back and clutch the front my hood to lower it even more.
The shame I feel has been surpassed by the fear bubbling up inside me like a boiling pot, after all these years she should've known not to come close to me.
Yet she always tries.
"Please go."
"But-" She starts but then cuts herself off to stare at me for several seconds, her hands curling in fists at her sides, and then slowly turns around to walk away as if she's finally gotten the memo that the guy in front of her is a lost cause.
I am a lost cause.
I always lose.
I am a looser.
—•—•—
- Writer
