This is a regular column featuring original poetry and fiction by and for teens, provided by Figment, the online community writing site for young readers and writers.
By Jenissa Michelle
Just in case you forgot, we met right before my first year of college.
I cannot fathom what my destination was, only that I had absconded. Like a feather I was easily swayed, drawn to infinite directions. It was mid-June, the month of inevitable rain, and my purpose was to reflect on myself before the new semester. That’s when you came along.
Squinting through the rain, I only saw your petite outline. Your thumb pointed out toward the road, and I pulled over in front of you and honked. I don’t know why, but my heart leaped as you hurried to the passenger’s seat. Nerves? But that seemed impossible — you were a stranger.
“Thanks,” you said, removing your hood to reveal an oval-shaped face. Emerald eyes framed by long lashes met mine and your cheeks flushed. Running your hand through your wet blonde hair, you added, “I’m Lenore.”
“No problem,” I whispered. I was stunned, for I had never seen a beauty more intoxicating. “I’m Nate.”
Just in case you forgot, we became friends after that.
You explained that you were from Virginia and aspired to be a columnist for “[IM]PERFECT” the nation’s bestselling magazine, and had fled to South Carolina to rid yourself from your ‘overbearing parents’.
“They want me to study law, but they never cared what I want,” you admitted bitterly.
After class I’d pick you up from the diner you worked at, and we’d drive to the park where we’d sit on the same bench and talk. It was a routine of ours and I don’t know if you remember, but it was effortless being with you, Lenore, like breathing.
Just in case you forgot, we kissed three months later.
We were perched under a dim streetlamp where, for the hundredth time, you thanked me for picking you up six months ago. You said that without me, you don’t know what would have happened. I laughed.
You were thanking me, as if my crusade competed with your conquest. You opened my eyes to perceive the world as it really was -- an atrocious place -- and that if we were auspicious enough to obtain something pure, to clasp on to it with the strength of a thousand men.
I leaned into you and waited until our lips met. My hands raked through your soft hair, but as soon as the kiss began, you interrupted it by taking a step back. I apologized immediately, but you turned and mumbled that you had to go, leaving me under the street lamp dumbfounded.
Weeks passed, and I heard nothing from you. I thought all hope was lost, until I received your letter:
There’s more to me than what I’ve admitted, and it’s not safe anymore. I’m no good for you. You deserve someone better.
No sincerely, no love, just Lenore.
Just in case you forgot, and if you only cared, I fell in love with you, Lenore. Like Dante, I’ll descend the nine levels of hell to bring you back.