in white (nano)
i'm horribly behind, my storyline sucks, and it's all jumbled up. and yet i post it anyway.
I’ve never had my heart broken because I’ve never given anyone the chance to break it. I was dead scared when I met Josh. He grabbed my heart right out of my chest and smiled.
Hello, I love you, I said.
Hello, he said.
But that was all. He was so nonchalant it almost killed me. But when we were in the darkroom together, under those harsh red lights, I remember finding a smile on his face when he brushed his arm against mine. And as our pictures developed--his, cityscapes and frowns; mine, red balloons and pretty girls--so did the feelings inside of me.
But it never felt that way with him. It was as if I was constantly running in circles around him, and he never seemed to notice. But there was something about him I needed. Something I couldn’t give up on.
I guess it all started in the beginning of tenth grade. He was in my photojournalism class. I could tell right away he was older--a senior I later found out. They wouldn’t put him in the advanced class because this was his first photojournalism class at school. He had been taking pictures for most of his life. His father was a famous photographer--Randall Rossom--and had taught him everything he knew. Rumor had it that Randall was currently working with the likes of Giselle Bundchen and all of those other Victoria’s Secret models…
But I was never one for being interested in rumors. Or fathers.
“Amelia!” I heard someone calling my name. I stopped and turned around to see Shelle running towards me, her backpack bouncing and her pink-and-white hair messily being blown around. I smiled and waved towards her. When she reached me, she was completely out of breath. “Amelia, Amelia, Amelia. You have to come with me to Jeremy’s tomorrow night.”
There was a funny thing about our little town in California. Everybody hated Jeremy.
“Jeremy? Why?” I groaned, tucking my loose reddish hair behind my ears. Shelle grabbed my face and pulled it close to hers. I could tell that she was about to try to be serious. I started to laugh, and licked some of her raspberry lip gloss off her top lip. Shelle squealed and punched my shoulder, backing away. “I’m serious, Amelia. Jeremy is asking for you. He wants you to bring some of your photos over.”
I had dated Jeremy in the summer after eighth grade. We’d spend most of our time building sandcastles and digging in the sand. He would take me to Starbucks every Saturday afternoon and order me a Tazoberry tea. It was our little routine that lasted until fall came. Then it was broken, and I was too. I remember writing a lot of sappy poetry. I didn’t even pick up my camera for weeks. It was as tragic as tragic gets. But then I got over it.
“Shelle, I’m not going over to Jeremy’s house. I swore I would never set foot there again.” She sighed loudly, resting her head on my shoulder as we began to walk home. It was already fall and the trees were nearly bear. Only a few brave leaves clung on for dear life. “Oh, please, Amelia. I know you hate him, and well, I’m not too fond of him too…” I smirked. “Then why are you bugging me about seeing him?” She paused. “Because he really seemed serious. Please?” She lifted her head, giving me a small pout. “Okay, fine, you know I can’t resist that face.” “Pie!” she shouted, enveloping me in a hug. “I love you, Amy dear.”
I laughed, pushing her away. “I love you too, you crazy fool.”
---
The crazy thing is, I still remember Josh’s first words to me. Mr. Kerf was explaining contrast to us that day and Josh turned to me. His hair was mussed about and it made me want to kiss him just then. He whispered, “What shit, huh?” I remember laughing too loudly and getting a detention paper slapped on my desk. Josh smirked at me.
I’ve never had my heart broken because I’ve never given anyone the chance to break it. I was dead scared when I met Josh. He grabbed my heart right out of my chest and smiled.
Hello, I love you, I said.
Hello, he said.
But that was all. He was so nonchalant it almost killed me. But when we were in the darkroom together, under those harsh red lights, I remember finding a smile on his face when he brushed his arm against mine. And as our pictures developed--his, cityscapes and frowns; mine, red balloons and pretty girls--so did the feelings inside of me.
But it never felt that way with him. It was as if I was constantly running in circles around him, and he never seemed to notice. But there was something about him I needed. Something I couldn’t give up on.
I guess it all started in the beginning of tenth grade. He was in my photojournalism class. I could tell right away he was older--a senior I later found out. They wouldn’t put him in the advanced class because this was his first photojournalism class at school. He had been taking pictures for most of his life. His father was a famous photographer--Randall Rossom--and had taught him everything he knew. Rumor had it that Randall was currently working with the likes of Giselle Bundchen and all of those other Victoria’s Secret models…
But I was never one for being interested in rumors. Or fathers.
“Amelia!” I heard someone calling my name. I stopped and turned around to see Shelle running towards me, her backpack bouncing and her pink-and-white hair messily being blown around. I smiled and waved towards her. When she reached me, she was completely out of breath. “Amelia, Amelia, Amelia. You have to come with me to Jeremy’s tomorrow night.”
There was a funny thing about our little town in California. Everybody hated Jeremy.
“Jeremy? Why?” I groaned, tucking my loose reddish hair behind my ears. Shelle grabbed my face and pulled it close to hers. I could tell that she was about to try to be serious. I started to laugh, and licked some of her raspberry lip gloss off her top lip. Shelle squealed and punched my shoulder, backing away. “I’m serious, Amelia. Jeremy is asking for you. He wants you to bring some of your photos over.”
I had dated Jeremy in the summer after eighth grade. We’d spend most of our time building sandcastles and digging in the sand. He would take me to Starbucks every Saturday afternoon and order me a Tazoberry tea. It was our little routine that lasted until fall came. Then it was broken, and I was too. I remember writing a lot of sappy poetry. I didn’t even pick up my camera for weeks. It was as tragic as tragic gets. But then I got over it.
“Shelle, I’m not going over to Jeremy’s house. I swore I would never set foot there again.” She sighed loudly, resting her head on my shoulder as we began to walk home. It was already fall and the trees were nearly bear. Only a few brave leaves clung on for dear life. “Oh, please, Amelia. I know you hate him, and well, I’m not too fond of him too…” I smirked. “Then why are you bugging me about seeing him?” She paused. “Because he really seemed serious. Please?” She lifted her head, giving me a small pout. “Okay, fine, you know I can’t resist that face.” “Pie!” she shouted, enveloping me in a hug. “I love you, Amy dear.”
I laughed, pushing her away. “I love you too, you crazy fool.”
---
The crazy thing is, I still remember Josh’s first words to me. Mr. Kerf was explaining contrast to us that day and Josh turned to me. His hair was mussed about and it made me want to kiss him just then. He whispered, “What shit, huh?” I remember laughing too loudly and getting a detention paper slapped on my desk. Josh smirked at me.