Chapter 4: Thorne Levi – His POV
536 Words
I won Best Journalist of the Year at my previous school. Sometimes, I wondered if I truly earned it—or if it was just because my mom was a famous author there.
My dog died. Stolen—that’s how I described it. God stole her life. I was heartbroken for weeks. Eventually, my mom decided it wasn’t healthy.
We moved to a town where no one knew us. It was my grandparents’ old summer house, the one my dad inherited. They said we’d stay there just for the summer, to help my mom finally finish her novel—and maybe, eventually, we’d come back.
The house was nice. But nothing beats the feeling of home. Home was where my dog lived. Where I could walk her in the park. Where I wrote down everything my mind encountered.
I like writing, but sometimes the fact that my mom is a well-known author casts a shadow over it. Her influence, instead of lifting me up, often felt like a weight—like people expected more from me, or worse, thought I only got opportunities because of her. It gave everything a strange, negative undertone.
My mom was busy writing, while Dad and my brother Travis—who’s two years older—were unpacking. I decided to go for a jog to unwind.
The park was unique; it had a lot of trees and shops around. It felt nothing like our hometown. While walking, a dog suddenly ran toward me. The dog looked just like my late dog. I even accused the owner of dognapping it.
I wasn't able to ask her name, but I knew her initials from the collar of her dog. She looked so sweet, with her fair skin, black eyes, shiny hair, and sulking smile.
I thought I needed to say sorry, so I went to the flower shop to buy an arrangement of roses for her. The owner, Izzy, said she would finish it quickly. I believed her and tried to find the girl—but she was nowhere to be found.
When I came to pick up the flowers, I saw the girl running around and jumping like a kid along the pathway. She was so happy with her gerbera daisies and peonies. I knew something was happening to me when my heart started beating so fast, and I couldn’t stop smiling while looking at her.
I couldn't sleep that night. I was thinking about that girl...
Earlier today, I saw her again going into the pet shop, so I walked in. I saw her struggling to put the dog food in her cart. I approached her shamelessly and helped her.
I wanted to ask her name, but I couldn't—so instead, I offered to buy a leash for her dog.
I really wanted to help her with the dog food when suddenly a boy—maybe her boyfriend—came over and grabbed the bag from her.
Was I being delusional? She told me that she’d see me around. But what about that boy? Is he her boyfriend? Or possibly… her brother?
Thoughts inside my head kept running around.
Am I supposed to feel this way? Is this jealousy?
- Writer
