Game Of Hearts

Brooks

ut looking at him twice? I felt a wave of betrayal wash over me at the fact that he failed to recognize the girl he had once shared countless ch

prise flickered across his face, followed by a co

hat somehow felt hollow, "I'm sorr

e room, leaving me standing there. There was a lot, l

He’d only called me shortstuffs and shortie because I was a lot more s

e past twelve years—something I shouldn’t be proud of. Sure, i had grown a few inches, got

m?’ Was he perhaps here to see me? Or was he trying to sneak into the house without being noticed? But why my ro

tween Conrad and I, and what secrets laid beneath the surface of his ind

t d

n satisfaction as I looked at the way I was dressed. Like those rich kids in high school movies, except

he shirt's collar peeked out, lending a hint of formality to my ensemble. A slender, tas

with her every step, adding a touch of femininity to the overall uniform. Completing my outfit were

ad given her a hug in appreciation because I really loved them. I g

and Jamie was standing in a corner buttering his toast. The amount of butter he was using stressed me out, a pat that size was costly. Mom would always say that to dad when

urling into a smile the moment he

me. He still hadn’t changed, he would always ‘huh’ me wh

her make up. I slowly ate my food as Jeanette put the cap on her tube of lipstick and rubbed her lips together to spread the plum color over both of th

he replied, partially because I didn’t

needed reassurance because she was

n I asked Jeanette why, she said he hardly a

ngers dancing across the screen. Jamie had his nose buried in a thick novel, his eyes darting across the pages with unwavering focus.

hat hung in the air, but the cold shoulder

ured, my voice tentative

ocked on the world beyond the tinted windows. It was as though he

clan siblings exchanged their goodbyes. Jeanette and Jamie bade me goodbye before le

nt, the chasm between us growing wider by the moment. "Goodbye," I mumbled softly, my wor

the bustling office, I provided my name and was assigned a class and a class teacher. With a s

ntroduced herself as Mrs Andrés, led me to a classroom door. I took a deep breath, preparing to face the unknown. As she pushed t

ndrés stepped aside to introduce me to the class. I could feel the eyes of my new class

he others. I couldn’t deny the fact that she was pretty. I liked the way her eyes lit up as she stared at me, and the way her hair fell in messy waves around her face. She had a beautiful face and a graceful figure. Her long, sil

. "Class, this is Jenna Brooks," she announced, her voice carrying a sen

ares were digging holes into my very soul, dissecting me with every passing moment. I tried to sum

self-imposed cocoon of discomfort. She pointed towards a vacant

ay to the designated seat. Conrad sat there, an enigmatic presence, his eyes

he teacher resumed her place at the front of the room, and the lecture began. I tried to focus on the words she was saying, to immerse

to catch his eye or perhaps exchange a word, but he remained stoic, his gaze

a quiet corner to gather my thoughts and perhaps make a friend or two. As I walked through the corridors, my sense of direction betrayed me. Instead of

t each turn I took only seemed to lead me deeper into the maze of the school

all – two figures locked in an intimate embrace. As I approached cautiou

were closed, his face illuminated by a gentle smile that I hadn't seen all morning