Lola was a name that grated on my ears. Most people considered it sonorous and calming, but after my teenage years, fraught with rebellion, Lola was a name uttered in exasperation rather than cooed.
THat is why I insisted Spencer call me Lara. It was a close sound so that I would still answer to it, but distant enough from my childhood that I could free myself from my past mistakes. He didn't seem to care either way. Lola, Lara, both names meant love to him and loving me was all he knew to do.
He found me in the...
Lola is the best dancer in the class. I couldn't believe her moves the first time I saw her, she was that good. I am good too, everyone knows that. But to dance with Lola--that'd be a dream come true. Somehow, though, I couldn't get up the nerve to ask her, and the guy always has to ask., It's the way things are done, you know, even in middle school.
So today Stewie comes up to me and tells me that if I wont' ask her, then he's going to go up to her and tell her that I said...
I couldn't sleep, so I went out for a late-night walk around town. When I got to the bridge, I stopped to look out at the bright lights in the city.
Suddenly, a woman came up to me and gave me a hug. Not wanting to be rude, I hugged her back as we both looked off in the distance. I'm not sure why, but she began to move her hand lower down my back. I tried to hint that she was making this even more awkward than it already was by moving my arm up, almost to her neck,...
It was cold, and soulless. It was mechanical, drunken and above all else it was heartbreaking.
I couldn't beleive it when I saw him in the crowd after all these years. The proverbial one who got away. It was even less imaginable that he would be the one to reach out to hold my hand, that he would be the one to pull me into his arms just as our song began to play.
The tickets for this concert cost a fortune, I had stayed up all night just to get through on the phone. I had brought a date...
I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.
Love Alisha
Tyler read the note his girlfriend had left tacked to the corkboard in the kitchen. "Fucking crazy cunt," he said to the empty apartment.
She’d never thought of herself as pretty. She was far too awkward for that, too uncomfortable in her own skin, too shy and retiring. Her features, if they drew comment (which in itself was rare) were declared unusual and unsettling. It was generally agreed that her eyes were too hooded and their shade too light. Half blind, they had a tendency to fix overly long upon you, after which they slowly fought to read and absorb your every detail, drinking you in. Defying social conventions, ignoring the boundaries of an individual’s space, their precious circle, they upset rather than pleased....
Until now, she'd never thought of herself as pretty. And, if she was honest, she still didn't. It wasn't her mind that had changed. It wasn't even thhe mind of the world in general. Just the rather pleasant opinion of one particular man who she had met while walking into town. He had caught her eye as she passed, caught her hard and fast in fact. She was forced to an abrupt halt, staggered by it's impact. Not unpleasant, mind. Gentle, but admiring. There was power in that. He had looked and smiled and then complimented her on her looks,...
Martin put the off-white china mug to his thin lips and took a long drink of his rapidly cooling coffee. His eyes scanned over the classified ads for the hundredth time but, once again, there was nothing. Nothing in his field, nothing in his area, nothing, nothing, nothing. The pen poised in his right hand tapped against the page angerly and he took another mouthful, swishing the lukewarm liquid between his cheeks.
"Good morning, pumpkin." Candice's bare feet padded along the bare hardwood behind him, and Martin soon found his girlfriend's arms wrapped tightly around his chest, her face buried...
It was just a glimpse. Her face was crystal clear. In his hurry he bumped into her as he walked past, and then in shame continued anonymously into the crowd.
Why was she HERE? She should be halfway around the world, or at least anywhere but the same small city in Japan. What were the chances two people would randomly pick this relatively unknown place for a vacation?
Who was she, anyways?
* * *
He walked right past her. Didn't even seem to recognize her. So frustrating!
She just wanted some sign from him that she existed! She tracked...
Gradually, that was how the world where it was okay to be a geek, a fangirl, a dork, herself, came into being.
It started with an acquaintance who knew the animated series who became a best friend.
It grew with a sister who accepted everything and opened her eyes to new worlds.
But it finally became real to her when she met him, the boy who pushed her fringe out of her eyes and led her onto the dance floor when she was sad. Who had moved closer in the fog and who had taken her hand without asking. The...