Passing Glance by Alexandra (any book recommendations TXT) 📕

clean and happy, with pain lifetimes away it seemed. I worked in the morning with my father and older brother, Benito. In the afternoons we were able to have some time for relaxation. While Benito lost himself within the house, I would gaze in wonder at my world, the Italian sun ripening my grapes, the wind rustling my hair, the earth keeping my body firmly on the ground, no matter how high my imagination might take me. I loved my time in the orchards, just awaiting something marvelous to happen.

my legs lay outstretched, my arms folded behind my head. I was home. I knew who I was then. I believed time to be going in one direction.


Chapter Four

Like most days, I woke with a tang of despair, the realization that my home was lost forever causing a bad taste to smother my tongue. Rolling out of bed I brushed my teeth in the bathroom down the hall, glaring at the yellow paint staining the walls.

I hated Tuesdays. They were my least favorite days of the entire week. The weekend still lingers upon your lips and yet Saturday is so far away it hurts. You know what's coming, for Monday is too close to forget, and with a pang of sadness you see that you're not even in the middle of the week.

Stuttering down stairs a half hour later dressed in jeans and a blue t-shirt, I sat to breakfast. That is, a Pop Tart. Nothing special from my devoted guardian. She was still sound asleep, wasting her old days away in slumber. I envied her perfect ten hours of sleep.

Leaving the house early, I shifted my backpack against my shoulder. I hadn't been able to understand the methods of driving yet, although I was already sixteen, so I walked. I can't say that I didn't enjoy the path, however, it allowed to the time to absorb the drowsiness of the morning.

coming into school that day I watched as Tanya and the rest of the Creative Writing Club hoped up the steps, laughing their way into Middletown Prep. I had to catch my breathe. Her red hair was shimmering in the sun light and the navy blue sweater she wore brightened it's color, contradicting in a beautiful way.

my breathe was lost, and for a moment I had to remind myself that this might be the same girl who had kissed me in prison, but she was lost, her memory unformed when it came to me.

For the most part, I didn't see her that day. We only shared History together, and though I sat near her, I strayed a safe distance away as well, afraid of slipping.

The Creative Writing Club only met on Mondays and Fridays, so there was no way I could see her after school. I needed to find a way to be with her. It was crazy, but I needed to be with her, she made me stronger.

Everyday was filled with indecision, and every night was filled with choices.

When Friday finally came I was ready, I was going to make up a plan to meet her.

Imprint

Publication Date: 04-07-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
For those who refuse to be forgotten