#stuck1

He pecked her cheek and giggles was all that could be heard coming from them. The birds on the trees couldn't be heard anymore, the cars driving by couldn't be heard anymore, her father's playful words of trying to keep her boyfriend's skin as far as possible from hers couldn't be heard anymore. Her heart was giggling too. Fluttering. That could be heard too. They heard each other's heartbeat and it was electrical the moment she held his hand and stroked it with her thumb. And they finally felt it. She could hear the blue in his eyes. The freckles on his cheeks and nose. But love isn't only deaf. Love is blind. No matter what, love is blind. Love is the kind of blind that lets you see everything but doesn't let you do nothing about it. You just sit, watch, cry and press replay. It's the best movie you've ever seen. But also the one you've cried the most over. As sad it is, you wouldn't change a bit. "Because I love it." The best love story doesn't have to start when you're three years old. The best love story doesn't have to be known by everyone. The best love story doesn't even have to last an entire life, or two. It has to be real. It has to be lived with each other's heart and soul. Love has to be the only ingredient. It has to only taste like love. You're right. This wasn't her love story. Neither she was his. But she thought she knew what true love was. Then she grew up.

  "Let me fucking go!" I yelled, pulled my arm out of that guy's grip and walked away. As I'm walking away, my feet scream at me. Looking good takes so much of me and I still look like shit all the time. I take my heels off and it feels odd walking barefoot. It feels like something's missing and I need my height back. Everything around me is taller, I'm small and weak again. I put my heels back on and tie my hair in a ponytail. Fresher. I look straight ahead as I crumble down the streets. The sunrise is just beautiful. I have no idea what makes it something so beautiful. It is so simple, it's full of mystery, it's waking up or falling asleep, or falling in love, it's having fun, it's a new day, it's my favourite thing in the world and at least, it never disappears completely. It comes back.

  I grab my phone from my purse, drop it on my dorm's bed and lay down. Only one text from Ashley. "At Steven's. Love you."  This only means she's spending the night out - even though I don't know who the heck Steven is - and that she's definitely going to miss the first classes tomorrow morning. Or today. It's so annoying when everybody says 'today' only because it's past midnight.

I check my phone's clock and not for my surprise, it's way past midnight. Nearly three hours until my first class of the day and I realise I really need to sleep so I can still use my makeup to cover the dark circles that will appear under my eyes when I wake up. I sit my phone on the sidetable, get up and head to the fridge Ashley brought to our dorm the first day of college. I still thank her every day for having this idea.

I zip my dress open by the side zipper and throw it to the end of the bed, finally take my heels off, sit on bed and take another bite from my tuna sandwich I took from the fridge. With three hours until my philosophy class, I'm glad I can eat whatever, make digestion and still be able to drink my coffee by the time I wake up. Digestion is just something my mom had me obeying to since forever and I'm just not ready to ignore it yet. It's still part of my habits. 

By the time I finish my sandwich, I lay down for the third time today and cover my feet with a thin sheet. It's way too hot to cover myself all the way up tonight. With my phone back in my hand, I text Ashley back with a simple "Have fun, love you x"  and set the alarm for eight, one hour before my class. I probably should sleep all day since tomorrow is already two days to go until summer but I decide against it. I sit the phone back on the sidetable and try to fall asleep quickly. 

  "What's love?" Mr. Miller shoots when the class starts and wanders around the class with his eyes peeking above his glasses when a few arms are rose up in the air "Miss Clark?" 

"A feeling...?" She almost questions her own answer, or perhaps just surprised Mr. Miller is introducing a new matter on almost the last day of classes.

"Hm... Yes Miss Clark, it is indeed a feeling..." He rubs his chin "Miss Ross?" My eyes instantly travel the classroom from Lisa to Mr. Miller. I was just thinking of a more clever answer than Lisa's but couldn't finish my thoughts "Huh... I... Hm love is when one can't stay away from another and feels the need to share achievements with them for example. It is mutual affection and respect and..."

"...attachment and trust. Thank you Miss Ross." Mr. Miller completes my sentence and gives me a small smile and a nod. Personally, this was the worst and the most hallow answer I've ever gave in my life.

"I see you've been reading the psychologist Elaine Hatfield's theories." He keeps smiling and I reciprocate the smile and nod once. Nope. I honestly never heard of her before. 

"I am going to follow Miss Ross' idea and start with compassionate love according to Elaine Hatfield" Mr. Miller begins. My answer was pure luck for him to introduce Elaine's studies to the class as he obviously had programmed to and everyone noticed so when he picked up a few small notes and started reading "Compassionate love is characterized by mutual respect, attachment, affection and trust. It usually develops out of feelings of mutual understanding and shared respect for one another." His eyes sneak up at his class "Let's start with attachment. It's one of the three elements of love, proposed by Zick Rubin. Attachment, caring and intimacy."

The class went on and it was interesting as always. Mr. Miller asked some of the boyfriends and girlfriends in the room to 'give us their closer-than-unfortunate-people view on love' which made a few people laugh.

I only got to see Ashley at the end of the day when I went back to my dorm, to find her sleeping on her bed. Probably with the biggest hangover.  I sat my earlier subjects' books on bed with the respective notes. All subjects but philosophy. I don't feel like reading about love at all. It may be nearly holidays but we're having exams anyway and I actually like a few matters.  After a few half an hours, I hear Ashley groan "Worst way to wake up ever," she sits up. Messy hair. Ruined make up.

"What?" I frown "Headache?"

"You reading those things." 

"Oh books?" She nods. I chuckle and roll my eyes "You should be doing the same since you missed an entire day of classes."

"Nah, I'm not even going to classes anymore this year. And stop being annoying. You're only a little motherfucker when you're acting responsible. Can you just close the books and be normal Emma again?" I laugh and close my books, pile them and slide them back under my bed.

"Where is he?" I furrow my brows. What?

"You didn't bring anyone back home last night?" She must be really bad right now to be considering I actually smushed last night and to even be calling this home. She's the one who always says this can't even be considered a dorm let alone home. I simply shake my head "You know I don't just 'sex it up' like you do, Ash."

"You're a loser," she chuckles and I throw a pillow at her giggling "All right, shut up."

"So what are we doing tonight?" The pillow flies back in my direction and I put it back in place shruging my shoulders "Oh, by the way, last week this guy from my Literature class invited me to a party at his house I guess....? and it's tomorrow night," Ashley's already changing to some new clothes in front of the closet as I speak and she turns to me with a unsure face "His house?" I nod "That doesn't mean shitty tiny party, does it?"

"No... I don't think so." I shrug my shoulder.

"Why not?" She turns back to the closet and slides in her new tight dress "I've heard his parties are always awesome and they're always very crowded. I've actually always wanted to come to one but it's always at a different place, you never know." 

She chuckles turning off the water in the bathroom, gets closer to the mirror and starts applying makeup after washing her face "How the hell do you know all that?"

"Rumours," I say and start getting ready too.