Glass Heart

Aleah's POV: It felt like we were kids just yesterday. He's grown up so much since he lived next door. Oh, all of the memories we had together growing up... It's such a shame that he moved away. I was going to confess how I felt to him at the end of our Junior year, but he left before I could say anything to him. If only he came back. If only I could see his smile one more time. Please come back-

"Aleah Coleman! The bus is here!"

I heard the squeakiness of my little sister's voice and looked at the clock. "Oh crap! I'm gonna be late!" I grabbed my pencil and quickly finished off my sentence in my diary, writing the name of the boy I was talking about, then closing the purple, hardback book and tossed it under my pillow. I shot out of my bed, already dressed, then ran out the door. As I was running downstairs, I couldn't help but think about him again. His pale blue eyes, his soft blond hair, that light tan skin. I just wanted to be able to see him again. I grabbed the piece of toast from my sister's plate and sat across from her at the kitchen table.

"Hey! That was mine!" My little sister, Emilia, yelled in fury. Me and her never really get along, but the piece of toast just looked so good and desperate, I just had to take it.

"Yeah, well, it's in my stomach now so get over it," I smirked softly, then letting in fade as I watched my mother and father enter the kitchen. My mother and father exchanged a few words before heading out the door. I sighed and took another bite of the toast.

"Do you ever get tired of being ignored?" Emilia looked at me with a piece of an egg in her mouth, sunnyside-up. I could tell by the color. Emilia learned how to cook in sixth grade, so she's always been the one to make me and her dinner. She had a cooking class and was always top of her class, even the teacher was impressed by her dishes. I only took classes I liked. I never really liked cooking class, so I took theatre classes.

"Yeah, it sucks. But, mom and dad are so caught up in their work, so you've just gotta get used to it." I frowned at my very own words and took another bite of the golden, mildly crunchy toast.

My mom, Addalyn Coleman, met my father, Oliver Coleman, at her work. She's a lawyer and he was too, so I guess they clicked. I mean, why wouldn't they? Sitting and sipping hot coffee, talking about their cases, and how stupid their clients must be. Plus, my mother and father are both very attractive. My mom has long, straight, blonde hair that goes past her shoulder blades and an hourglass figure. My dad, unlike her, has curly, auburn hair, and a buff figure. From what they told me and my sister, they locked eyes and fell in love almost immediately, which I personally don't believe.

"Just make sure you get on the bus on time, I'm walking today," I said as I stood up and walked to the door with my backpack on my shoulders, "Figure out what you're going to cook tonight for us." I stepped outside the door but kept the door cracked, waiting for her response.

"Alright, how does spaghetti sound? With meatballs?" Emilia looked up from her breakfast plate and looked towards my direction where I was exiting. I nodded. "Sounds good with me." I shut the door behind me and began my walk to school. There were plenty of kids flooding from their homes in a rush to get to school, but not me. I was completely numb to the outside world. I never really paid any attention to the other kids at school, but it was expected, I never got along with any of them because they were always trying to pick fights with me for no reason at all. It's like every time I told them their breath stinks, they would get all defensive and try to beat my ass for it. I was only trying to be helpful.

But all jokes aside, I guess I do tend to get a little too cocky with even my teachers, all except one. Ms. Rodricks. Ms. Rodricks was always on my side, even when I would get myself in a tricky situation. She was always there for me, even more than my mom has ever been, which isn't saying a lot. Ms. Rodricks teaches English, which is my least favorite subject. Ironic, right? The language I was taught growing up is the one I'm least good at. Either way, the only reason I really did my work and didn't get cocky in English class is that I really like Ms. Rodricks, and I know she likes me, or else she wouldn't have told me I was her favorite and give me candy after class.

I regained my focus on the rhythm of my footsteps and tried my best to match it with the previous ones. Sometimes, I like to think that if I don't match my beat with others, I'll get killed or something exciting will happen, and that excites me enough to mess up on purpose sometimes. I messed up my footing and stepped about a second late than the beat in my head, and my mind went crazy. I looked around to see if anything happened, which sounds stupid but it really makes you think. What if something actually did happen and your brain was telling you to not mess up because it knew what would happen? My mom always called me a creative thinker, and I see why now.

I decided to change my mind's focus and not think at all, but when I tried doing that, all I could think about was him and how we had so much fun together. I miss him so much and I really just want to see him again. The number of times I've prayed to be able to see him just one more time is ridiculously high. Oh please, just one more time. One more time so I can tell you how I really felt about you all these years. One more time so I can hug you tightly. Just one more time to see you smiling at me is all I could ever ask for.

'Liam..'