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Chapter Text

She had never been anything but odd. For as long as her parents could recall, Lena Carleton was a happy but strange girl. She was friendly and loved people, but was completely baffled as to why the other children ran away crying when she tried to discuss her favourite topics with them. Car accidents. Natural disasters. Diseases. Funerals. Poison. Crime. Death. It was impossible to know why she was so taken by such morbid things, or why she was so persistently confused by the negative reactions of others to her intense interests. However, she was far from a bad person. She didn’t wish harm on anyone, no matter how much said harm might excite her. The few people who were not put off by her eccentricity found her to be an immensely caring and fiercely loyal friend. She loved her few friends even more than reading about unidentified corpses, but she never expressed any romantic interest in anyone who hadn’t been executed years before her birth. It wasn’t until her last year of high school that this changed.
Lena was shocked to see someone in her first class of the year who she had never seen before. She was so extroverted that she had introduced herself to everyone else in her grade as soon as possible. At first, before her particular interests became evident, many of the students would find themselves attracted to her wild dark hair, deep blue eyes and impossible degree of confidence. Lena, however, was completely oblivious and, luckily, the infatuation of the students would inevitably end as soon as they realized how deeply deranged she was.

Before meeting this new student, romance was the last thing on her mind. Sure, she had some hybristophilic tendencies, but that wasn’t all too uncommon for a girl her age. She was a strange girl, but a driven one; her primary goal was to study hard so she could study forensic science and spend her life working on cold cases. It was on this day that everything changed.

She sat at her desk before class started and looked in the direction of the mysterious young man.
“Who’s that guy?” she asked her friend Marla, who sat at the desk to her right. She was a very short but feisty girl who had been friends with Lena for years, completely used to her eccentricities. To be fair, she was a bit odd herself.
“Who?” she responded. “The one giving off school shooter vibes?”
“What? I mean that guy, in the black shirt.”
“I dunno; must be new”. Marla was only half paying attention; she was tired and wanted to be anywhere else. Summer had gone by far too quickly for her liking.
“It sounds so hard, transferring in the last year. I wonder if he knows anyone here.”
“Maybe you should introduce yourself? But try not to be too… intimidating.” Her friend warned. Lena laughed in response.
“I couldn’t intimidate anyone if I tried! If anything, you’re the intimidating one!”
“I just meant don’t immediately start discussing the Manson family. Like you did with me.”
“Jeez Marla, sometimes you’re no fun at all!” She teased lightheartedly.

Lena got up and strode towards the boy in the upper left corner of the room, nearest to the teacher’s desk. She figured there was just enough time to introduce herself before class began. The young man sat with slightly hunched posture, completely still and staring ahead, likely lost in thought. His dark hair was nearly down to his broad shoulders. As Lena approached the desk, she could see that he had long bangs that covered much of his face, falling over his eyes. She reached the front of his desk and stood over him, looking him over. He didn’t seem to notice her presence at first.

“Hey!” She began in her usual friendly voice. He snapped out of his trance and regarded the girl in front of him, his grey eyes starting directly at her through his long, dark bangs. She felt a chill go through her. His pale, blank face was like nothing she had ever seen.
In stark contrast to her usual bright and confident personality, she found herself unable to say anything; for the first time she could remember, she searched for words and found absolutely none.
“I… uh… you are… uh…”. Nothing remotely coherent came out. The girl swallowed nervously. She felt her palms sweat and placed her hands into her skirt pockets.
“Um… oh right. You’re new here, aren’t you? I-I figured it must be really hard, transferring to a new school in grade 12. My name is Lena. Nice to meet you!” It took a Herculean effort to get the simple greeting out. She had never experienced such nervousness before.
The boy just stared blankly at her; no response, verbal or otherwise. Normally, this would be an incredibly awkward situation, but Lena was not a normal person. Staring back into his heavy-lidded eyes, she couldn’t resist trying to talk to him, despite how overwhelming it was.
“What’s your name?” Her voice sounded more normal, but her heartbeat raced.
Without changing his expression or posture, he slowly began to move his lips. Quietly, almost too quiet to hear, he uttered one word in a deep monotone.
“Rock.”
She blinked rapidly. “Rock? That’s a cool name! I hope you like it here, Rock! Feel free to ask me if you need help with anything!” Her eyes were fixed on his and vice versa. Slowly, the boy nodded. Carefully, attempting to hide how flustered she was, Lena made her way back to her seat.

Rock was aware of how nervous the girl was, but this did not phase him in the least. He was completely used to people being terrified of him; in fact, he was rather shocked that she managed to talk to him for that long. But he was wrong about why she was nervous. It wasn’t fear that struck Lena, far from it. Lena had, for the first time, found herself truly infatuated. Not the way she felt about serial killers or cult leaders long dead, but something completely unfamiliar to her. Unknowingly, Rock had ensnared the weird girl’s heart with his bang-covered eyes and unreadable face.

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She had met Lena on her first day of high school. Right away, she could tell that the girl was deeply twisted, but she was just so likeable and sweet. Lena would babble constantly about which poisons were most lethal and which serial killers most prolific, but she would also earnestly listen to the people around her and do her best to help them. She was strange, but effortlessly selfless. Despite her strangeness, she treasured her friend.
Marla was a diminutive young woman with long brown hair and dark eyes. She seemed to perpetually wear a scowl, causing most to avoid her. In truth, while she did have a temper that matched her height, she was not as cold as she seemed. Like Lena, she enjoyed horror films and serial killer documentaries, but this was the extent of her morbid curiosity. She had no firm plans for the future and as a result she was not nearly as studious as her friends. All she really wanted to do was go to concerts and fan conventions, endeavours she funded by working part-time as much as possible.
The girls had stayed in contact with each other during the all too short summer, texting each other daily and meeting up often. In the morning of their first day of twelfth grade, when they met up, Lena was her usual friendly and strange self. When they met up at lunch, Lena seemed to be someone different entirely.
Despite her inability to understand that her interests disturbed the vast majority of people, Lena was a smart girl. Her grades were great and she always seemed alert and aware of those around her. This was not the case. On this day, she seemed to be far away mentally, in a world entirely her own. They sat together in their usual spot in the cafeteria. Lena was uncharacteristically picking at her bagged lunch.

“Are you alright?” Marla queried. She was thoroughly used to her odd friend and had never seen her like this.
“Huh?” Came the dazed reply. “Oh, me? Uh, yeah. I’m good. You?”
Marla ignored the question.
“You seem distracted. It’s not like you at all. Did something happen?”
“N-no, everything’s fine! I’m sorry to worry you. Just getting back in the swing of things. It’s hard to adjust.”

Lena made a good argument, but Marla knew her too well to be fully convinced. Her blue eyes seemed almost glazed over, lost in thought.
Soon, lunch was over and the girls parted ways, headed to different classes. Marla sat down in her history class indifferently. Waiting for class to start, her eyes drifted towards the same young man Lena approached that morning. Could he be the reason for her sudden change in behaviour? Curiosity getting the better of her, Marla got up to approach the boy. Just to introduce herself, she justified, despite this being completely out of character for her.
As she made her way towards the desk, she caught a glimpse of the young man’s long bangs, nearly covering his eyes. She wondered how he was even able to see. Getting a closer look as she reached the front of the desk, she got a better look at his face. A chill went through her. He had a completely blank expression. Through the curtain of his bangs, she could see the piercing grey eyes. Marla’s fight or flight instinct kicked in upon one look at him; she looked around, attempting to make it look like she forgot what she was doing, and she slowly made her way back to her own desk. Yes, this was absolutely the cause, she thought to herself. The school shooter vibes she got earlier were multiplied tenfold. Even her fearless, extroverted friend must have been put off by such a terrifying face.

Of course, she was right in that the strange young man was indeed the reason for Lena’s strange behaviour. However, Marla could not have been more wrong about why that was.

Chapter Text

Sitting down for their regular family dinner after a long day of work, Langley Carleton was worried about his daughter — and not in the ways he usually worried. Yes, he was always concerned about her odd interests. He and Rita had tried to thwart their child’s morbid fascinations early on, but it quickly proved futile. They couldn’t stop her from researching John Doe cases; all they could do was teach her to look at morbid topics from an empathetic perspective. Thankfully, despite her lack of ability to understand why others didn’t appreciate her interests, they seemed to have succeeded otherwise in their efforts to raise her to be caring. Still, they worried about their little girl, a child who surely would always disturb others and never truly be understood.
This was not what Langley worried about that night. No, his usual cheery teenager was acting strangely — even by her standards. Lena usually ate ravenously, in a constant battle between her desire to eat and her need to talk about all manner of distressing things with an unshakable smile on her face. It was startling how different she was that night, the evening after her first day of her last year of high school.

The couple were happily married and in their mid forties. Together since high school, Langley and Rita were always devoted to one another. Unfortunately, they were unable to have children of their own, despite wanting them dearly. Their adopted teenage daughter was their whole world. It was understandable that when she started acting differently, her doting parents would be extremely concerned.

“Darling, are you alright?” He asked his daughter gently. She was sitting blankly in front of her dinner, barely eating. At the sound of her father’s voice, Lena slowly snapped out of her trance.
“Huh? Oh, me? Yeah, I’m just fine. How was your day, dad?”
“Oh, you know. Long day, but I’m glad to be home. How did your first day back go?”
“Uh, good. I think.”
Langley pushed up his glasses. This wasn’t at all like her.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re so quiet!” Rita asked, sounding as worried as her husband.
Lena looked up at her, opening her mouth as if to say something before closing it again. She hesitated a little longer, then looked at her mother and then her father. She sighed before finally responding.
“How… exactly… did you two… fall in love?”

Langley nearly choked on his food. His daughter had said plenty of shocking things before, but nothing like this. Usually, he was taken aback by the horrifying things she talked about accompanied by a gentle smile, a stark contrast that he had gradually become accustomed to. He was entirely unprepared for her to ask such a question, seeing as she had never, in eighteen years, expressed any real interest in romance — aside from occasional comments about murderers that disturbed him greatly. This wasn’t like that, though. She seemed legitimately concerned and curious.

“Oh… well, when we were in eleventh grade, we started talking and realized we had a lot in common. We couldn’t get enough of talking and hanging out with each other. Soon we were inseparable.” Rita responded to her daughter in a dreamy voice. She seemed to be getting lost in the nostalgia. Langley certainly felt the same way about that time, but he was too overwhelmed by how sudden his daughter’s interest in this topic was to think too much about it.
“Why do you ask, sweetheart?” His wife queried, trying not to sound too enthusiastic.
“There’s a new student. I went to introduce myself to him, but I could barely get the words out. I’ve never had that happen before. It was like his eyes were burning me. I think I liked it.”

The conversation was overwhelming for her poor father. He hadn’t realized how great it had been to have a daughter who was uninterested in romance until then. Langley desperately did not want to be like his father-in-law, a man who despised him and never thought him to be good enough for his daughter. However, in that moment, he finally understood how that man felt; for Langley knew that if anyone caused his child any amount of heartbreak, he would be forced to abandon his mild mannered personality and tear that person to shreds without a second thought. He looked at his daughter, unable to hide his look of concern.

“Oh wow, Lena! I’ve never heard you talk about anyone like that before!” Rita sounded far more excited than concerned. It was rare for them not to be on the same page.
“Did you get his name?”
“He said it was Rock. Actually, that’s all he said. He was so quiet. He was like a corpse.”

Her mother was unfazed by such a strange comment; she knew her daughter far too well for that. Langley, on the other hand, was trying desperately to stay composed. Some strange young man had bewitched his precious daughter. He was terrified — afraid of what he would do to the young man if he ever hurt Lena, while also afraid for the young man’s sanity, knowing how strange his daughter was. It was terribly conflicting.
“My, what a first impression. Do you think you’ll try talking to him again?” The mother was clearly fascinated.
“I… don’t know. It was so overwhelming”
“You remind me of your father, back when we were young. He was so shy, he could barely look at me!” Langley’s face reddened at her words.
“But I’m never shy! It wasn’t until today that I found myself, like, completely speechless. Just from looking at someone.”
“He sounds like quite the looker.” Her mother chuckled. “Well, my love, I do hope you’re able to talk to him again. Even if it’s difficult, young love is more than worth it. Isn’t that right, darling?”

Langley’s beautiful wife smiled at him. He attempted to smile back, but the worry on his face was plain to see. Lena was not the only one who seemed to have lost all appetite for dinner.

Chapter Text

The man looked quite a bit older than his actual age. Surely, the cigarettes didn’t help. Neither did the grief, or the grueling work schedule. He was only 38, but Miles’ hair was already starting to grey.
It was late in the evening when he got home, hours after his son. He wished so dearly to be able to spend more time with him, but he needed to work to look after them. The very thought of how much time he spent away from his only child was enough to break his heart, so he simply tried his hardest not to think about it.

Slowly, he crept through his apartment. He reached the open door of his son’s room, peering in to check on him as he always did.
“Evening, son! How did school go?”
The young man was hunched over his desk, likely drawing. One of his few hobbies. He turned around slowly to look at his father, grey eyes staring blankly from behind his long bangs. The boy nodded slowly.
“Ah, I’m glad!” Miles truly was; just seeing his son never failed to brighten his day. “I know it’s hard adjusting to a new school. But I also know that you’ll be okay, no matter what.”

His son nodded again, still staring up at him, expression never changing. The boy looked so much like his mother. Miles’ felt constant conflict in his heart; he adored his son but his strong resemblance to the woman he mourned so deeply was incredibly painful to see. 14 years of aching, indescribable grief.

“Did you already have supper?”
The boy nodded in response.
“Ah good. Well, I’m always here if you need me.” Content, the father walked down the hall to his office.

Miles adored his son, and though he never saw anything to fear in his blank face, he wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly how others saw his boy.

In fairness, there was a time when Miles feared his wife’s cold countenance; not in the way that most people did, recoiling at the sight of her. No, Miles felt an entirely different kind of fear; an intensely paradoxical attraction, a masochistic urge to be killed by her. It was this that led him to approach his classmate, fighting against every instinct of self-preservation, cold sweat rolling down his face as he introduced himself. She was terrifying. He adored that.
The young woman’s eyes bore into him like knives as he asked her name. He knew he was utterly, hopelessly in love with her. Stunningly beautiful and stunningly cold. The edgy, lonely teenage boy wanted nothing more than to be strangled by her long, pale fingers.

It was a gradual process, the fear turning into pure adoration the more time they spent together. Eventually, there came a time where he was unable to look at her and feel anything resembling true terror, as he once had. Only love. She was not an evil, merciless predator as Miles had wanted; rather, an expressionless but compassionate angel that he needed. He still wanted her to kill him, to ravage him, to die in her arms. But he was not afraid, instead happily resigned to his fate, or so he thought. The young man wanted to be with her eternally, and the feeling was more than mutual. Alas, it was not to be. He left her far too early. Their small child became his sole reason for living after that. Each person who saw him, even his mother’s own family, were terrified by the boy’s visage, but this didn’t bother his father. He knew there was nothing malicious hidden behind those eyes.

Yes, he was sure that he was the only person alive who had never felt fear at the sight of his son’s face.
Oh, how wrong he was.

Chapter Text

Marla was deeply concerned. She wasn’t the best student but she was far from unintelligent; clearly, her usually laidback best friend was acting strangely because of that terrifying new student. And yet, the strange girl seemed keen to speak with him again.

“You’re really going to try to be friends with him? You’re usually so fearless, but I can tell that he scared you.”
Lena tilted her head, confused.
“Scared? No, that’s not it. There’s… just something about him, isn’t there?”
She shifted awkwardly in her seat. “I just can’t keep my eyes off him.” Lena whispered. “Like a car crash.”

Her friend could barely comprehend what she was hearing. This was weird, even by Lena standards.
“I don’t understand. I tried to introduce myself yesterday but he was too freaky, I just couldn’t manage it.” Marla’s heart raced just thinking about it.
Lena exhaled deeply.
“Alright, I can do this.”
“If he says anything weird to you, he’s a dead man.”
Lena chuckled.
“You worry too much! Besides, leave the violence to me!”

She got up from her desk and once again made her way across the classroom towards the enigmatic young man. He was hunched over, head resting on his arms.
“Morning, Rock!” She said, doing her best to sound cheery despite her rapidly beating heart.
He glanced up at her, eyes as cold and sharp as the day before. She did her best to breathe normally and smiled sweetly at his pale face.

“Did you know? Potassium cyanide can be used to clean gold. It used to be possible to get a jeweler’s license for it. Wasn’t even that hard!”
Her deep blue eyes were sparkling now; she was in her element. He stared up at her, face unchanged despite the bizarre topic of conversation.

“That’s what Jim Jones did; that’s how he got so much!” She looked at him, his long hair slightly more messy than usual from him resting on the desk. He was like nothing she’d ever seen.
“Oh, I wish I could try cyanide. Well, in a greater concentration than in almonds. It’s supposed to be incredibly bitter!”

She smiled, in utter bliss talking about such a dark subject. He never broke eye contact with her, aside from blinking. There were dark circles around his eyes, and he seemed exhausted but still he gave her his full attention.
Lena was even more enamoured than she was the day before. When she saw the teacher enter the room, her heart sank.
“Ah, I’d better get back to my seat. It was lovely talking to you!”

Her heart was racing as she returned to her desk. She was beyond happy, getting to talk to the enchanting young man, and about one of her passions, no less! Usually, people gave her strange looks, or awkwardly tried to change the subject, but he seemed to listen completely and without complaints. He was perfect. Not to mention, gorgeous; she adored those long bangs and beautiful eyes.
She sighed as she sat down.
“So… how’d it go?” Marla whispered.
Lena had a dreamy look in her eyes.
“It was heavenly”.

Marla’s concern was now accompanied by complete confusion.

Chapter Text

He laid on his bed, flat on his back, staring at the off-white ceiling. His tired eyes traced the small lines and imperfections along the corners of his bedroom walls. For once, he didn’t feel like drawing. His homework was already done. The album "Candy Apple Grey" by Hüsker Dü was playing from his smartphone speakers at a low volume so as not to disturb the neighbours. He had no idea what to do to pass the time; his chest felt so heavy that he could barely move.

It was strange enough, having someone come up to him and introduce themselves the day before. But to come up to him again, the next day? Rock couldn’t comprehend such a thing. Wasn’t she scared? Well, judging from her choice of conversation topic, she wasn’t exactly a normal person. Not that he was in any position to judge.
It was already evening and he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. Nothing sounded appetizing to him; he was far too preoccupied with his thoughts to even consider eating, although he knew his father would worry if he didn’t have anything for supper. He felt even more exhausted than usual. Alright, he thought. He could at least have coffee.

Rock ambled to the kitchen and put on a pot of Tim Horton’s coffee. His father would be home in an hour or two, and then he could reheat some too. He paced slowly across the cold kitchen tile until it was ready. Carefully, he poured the hot beverage into a mug and returned to his bedroom with it. Rock sat down at his desk, sipping the hot black coffee. The usual bitterness hit him, and his mind flashed with the memory of that morning. The strange girl, Lena, had said she wanted to taste the bitterness of cyanide. He sighed deeply. It was already such a strange comment, but she looked so happy saying it. She clearly wasn’t hinting at self harm; rather, she seemed legitimately sad that she couldn’t taste such bitterness and live.
The young man looked down at his drink, his reflection staring back at him. Why was she so sweet, so genuine, while talking about something so incongruous? He sighed.

I wonder how she takes her coffee, he thought.

He so rarely interacted with people — much to their relief — and spoke so seldom, even to the one person he was close to. If she truly wasn’t afraid of him, would it be possible to ask her to go somewhere with him? They only shared one class together, the very first in the day. He wanted to hear more of her voice, to see more of her face. To see the way her eyes lit up again, even if the topics of discussion were utterly bizarre. But, what if he spoke to her, and that caused her to start fearing him? What if he smiled his unsettling grin at something she said, and it caused her to recoil? His stomach churned at the thought. Should he continue to say nothing and merely listen, or speak up and risk pushing her away? Suddenly, he found himself with even less appetite. Even the coffee was too much.

“Bitter.” he whispered to himself. He laid his head against his desk.
For how long he sat like that, lost in his tormented thoughts, he had no idea. By the time he heard the apartment door open, the coffee next to him was cold. Minutes later, his father walked in.

“Good evening!” Seeing his son with his head down, Miles began to worry.
“Everything okay, son? Did something happen at school?”
Rock sat up, turned towards his father and shook his head slowly.

The father could tell there was something off about his son, but he knew that no good would come from pressing the issue. He noticed the white mug sitting on the desk, half full with the dark liquid.
“Ah, good idea, my boy. I think I’ll heat up some myself. Of course, if you need anything at all, you know where to find me.”
The boy nodded. As soon as Miles left, Rock returned to his previous posture. His thoughts were consuming him once again. He was so used to people fearing him that it usually didn’t phase him in the slightest. Yet, the idea of doing something to turn Lena away from him filled him with such an overpowering dread he could barely stand it.

Chapter Text

The next morning, when Rock was once again greeted by the girl standing over his desk, he felt an indescribable mix of relief and dread. Relief that she was still clearly not afraid of him, dread at the thought that it would not last. This time he looked up at her before she began to speak, his heart racing as he heard her approach. Her bright eyes locked on to him immediately.

“Good morning!” She said cheerfully. He could not possibly take his eyes off of her. She had hair slightly longer and slightly lighter than his. It was wild and messy but, unlike his, it did not hide her eyes in the least. They were so big, bright and blue. He wanted to drown in them. Through her long hair, he noticed for the first time that her ears were pierced, a black stud adorning each.

“You know, I love researching cults. Did you know that Heaven’s Gate still has a website? They used phenobarbital and apple sauce. I wonder how that would taste!”
She looked so happy talking about mass suicide that Rock found it hard not to smile. Instead, he continued to stare up at her delighted face.

“There really are so many ways to die.” Lena mused. From anyone else this would be incredibly frightening to hear, but her expression was one of wistful fascination.
“I think I’d like to die via poison. Or lethal injection.” She giggled. Rock’s heart could barely take it. Shouldn’t she be afraid of him? Shouldn’t he be disturbed by her?
“I know they don’t have the death penalty in Canada, of course. Still, it’s fun to think about being executed and having to choose a last meal. I mean, I can’t really decide what mine would be. Something sweet, maybe?”

He never thought someone could be so excited while talking about such bizarre and morbid topics, let alone such a cute girl. The juxtaposition was oddly endearing to Rock, and despite his best efforts, he found himself unable to suppress his feelings. Slowly, a wide grin crept across his face. That grin, combined with his intimidating eyes, never failed to make people shudder with fear. It instantly set off the fight or flight response in anyone unfortunate enough to see it. Until that day, his parents had been the only exceptions to that rule.

Lena continued to look at him warmly, her eyes bright and beautiful. Rock, in turn, continued to stare and grin at her, unable to help himself. If anyone else has seen that, they surely would have fainted. The girl, however, merely continued to smile and giggle, her thoughts undoubtedly filled with unspeakable horrors.

When class began and she retreated back to her seat, they both felt a crushing sense of loss.
Rock could barely focus on anything else that day. He felt exhausted, relieved, overwhelmed. More than anything, he felt far more terror than he had ever inflicted on anyone else.

“You look happy” Marla whispered to her friend as she sat back down. She still couldn’t fathom how her friend could even look at the boy in the corner of the classroom, much less have a delightful one-sided conversation with him.
Lena looked suddenly serious, her face burning.

“Marla?”
“What?”
“I think I’m… falling in love.”
At that confession, Marla nearly fell out of her chair.

Chapter Text

It took all the restraint she had not to constantly hound her daughter with questions. Ever since she’d brought up that new student, Rita knew that her daughter was in love. It came as a shock, but a welcome one. She had so many warm memories of her high school days, when she fell hopelessly in love with Langley Carleton. Though she wasn’t bothered by the fact that her daughter had seemed uninterested in romance, she was certainly pleased to hear that someone had captured her attention. Of course, Rita was worried that the feelings may be unrequited; her daughter naturally pushed people away with her odd personality. Despite that, though, she was still able to make a few close friends, which gave her mother hope that things might still work out.

She walked into her daughter’s room, bearing freshly brewed coffee and a small plate of cookies. The girl was sitting at her desk, diligently finishing her homework as she always did. She was so engrossed that it took her a few seconds to register her mother standing over her.
“Oh!” She said, startled. Rita placed the refreshments down on the desk, careful not to spill any coffee on the papers.
“Thank you so much!” Lena said, beaming.
“Figured you wouldn’t mind!”
“You’re so thoughtful! How are you doing?”
For a girl who could be so oblivious, she was deeply caring.
“Good! But I was wondering how you were doing?”
“Oh, not bad today.” She still seemed a bit out of it, as she had the previous two days.

Rita sat down on the bed behind her daughter’s desk chair. She was very tall for a woman and didn’t want to seem intimidating by standing over her daughter.
“Tell me, love; were you able to speak with that boy again?”
Lena spun around in her desk drawer until she was facing her mother, sipping the coffee as she did.

“Yes…” she said, hesitantly.
“Oh? And how did it go?”
“Well… I…” a small smile formed across her face as she looked into the coffee mug.
“I spoke to him yesterday, and today too. We only have one class together. He didn’t say anything either time but… today, he smiled at me. He looked so sweet.”

Rita had never heard her daughter talk about a living person like that. She recognized that look on her face. Her daughter was surely in love, just like she was at her age.
It wouldn’t be long at all before that suspicion was confirmed.

“I… think I might be in love with him. No, I don’t. I know I am.” Lena blushed, sipping the black coffee as her hands slightly shook.
“My, I can’t believe it. My little Lena is in love.” Rita felt overwhelmed at the confirmation, but not in a bad way.
“What should I do?”
“Well, love, what do you want to do?”
“I… I don’t know, honestly. I want to tell him, I think. I want to talk to him more. Even if he doesn’t talk much.”
“Ah, my darling, I felt the same way about your father. I was so relieved when he told me how he felt about me.”

Lena thought for a second about that. She reached back and grabbed a cookie, eating it quickly before taking another sip of coffee.
“I don’t know if he feels the same way about me, but even if he doesn’t, I want to keep talking to him. I hope he at least sees me as a friend.”
“You’re a sweet girl, Lena. I’m sure he does.”

She smiled at her mother, looking much more content.
“Thank you.” She said as her mother stood up.
“Oh my darling, I’m always here if you need someone to talk to.”

Rita bent down to hug the girl. She was an odd young woman, yes, but she wouldn’t change a thing about her. Leaving her daughter to her studies, she left the room, feeling cautiously optimistic.