Description
My fingers twisted through the charcoal ringlets framing my face. Stop thinking about him, my conscious screamed at me, he's not thinking about you. That one hurt. I knew he wouldn't be. I mean, why would he? I was just an eighth grade clarinet player, just another face in the crowd. I wasn't particularly pretty, or witty, or charming. I was just a girl. There was no reason for him to notice me, to think about me. But I thought about him. Oh, I thought about him. I thought about him day and night, thoughts of him invading the quiet moments in my brain. It gave me this feeling, one that I had come to love and hate. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, the breath was pushed from my lungs, my face burned, and my skin tingled, with just the thought of him. Stop thinking about him. I couldn't. I'd already fallen for someone I could never have.
Chapter One
