• 4
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Couldn't believe that shit.
Mr. Dudley had called me back into his office to congratulate me, some long speech about hard work and improvement that I barely heard because all I kept thinking was one thing:
She did this.
Little pink girl with her neat handwriting and her stubborn hope.
She got me through this semester. I don't know how.
All I knew was that somewhere along the way, I started to look forward to our weekly tutoring sessions.
Every Wednesday and Thursday.
Every damn week.
I never looked forward to anything in this place.
But I went to every session she scheduled.
Didn't miss a single one.
She'd sit there with her pens and her colorful markers, like the world wasn't a rotten place.
Like people were good.
Like I wasn't who I was. All she knew was good, all she cared for were the soft things in life.
She didn't know what she was pulling out of me.
And I wasn't about to tell her. I don't think I fully understood either.
I didn't say that out loud, obviously.
I barely said anything. I just stared at the bald man, he even managed a smile. It was uncomfortable to say the least. He's never smiled at me.
When I walked out of the office, I found her waiting in the hallway, hugging her books, rocking on the balls of her feet like she had caffeine instead of blood. She always wore something bright, pink, and never missed a bow in her hair.
Her eyes lit up the second she saw me. She was always too excited.
"You passed?" she asked, breathless.
"Yeah."
I expected a smile. Maybe a little clap like she always did.
I did not expect her to throw her arms around me.
Her body hit mine so fast I didn't register it until her face was pressed into my chest and her small hands were fisted in the sleeves of my hoodie. I wasn't used to this.
I stilled.
No. That wasn't the right word.
I short-circuited.
Her.
On me.
Touching me.
Like it was normal.
Nobody hugged me like that. I don't even remember the last time someone hugged me.
She must have been really proud.
"Sorry I hugged you. I'm just really happy," she laughed softly against me.
It was strange, because the only person who ever looked at me like they were proud of me was my mamma. She was gone before I ever had the chance to make her proud for real.
I swallowed hard. She's always apologizing.
"Right."
"Yes," she said, squeezing tighter. "But I'm so proud of you. You did amazing. I always knew you could do it."
Her voice was soft as always.
Something in my chest twisted. I didn't like it. I didn't feel emotions much. If anything I'd manage to completely shut off my emotions, majority of the time.
I lowered my arms slowly, carefully, and hugged her back. Not fully. Just enough. Her hair smelled like vanilla and honey and for some reason I found myself inhaling a little deeper.
Enough to know I'd be thinking about it for the rest of my life.
She pulled away without noticing how wrecked I was, smiling up at me like I was someone worth celebrating.
"Ready for graduation?" she asked.
"Sure."
"We should take a picture," she said brightly.
"No."
She laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. She did that often. Told me I was funny. I didn't have a humorous bone in my body, yet she found one somehow.
We started walking toward the senior wing. She always followed me, even though she technically wasn't supposed to be on that side of the building. She said she wanted to make sure I actually went to class.
Halfway down the hall, some senior dickhead leaned against the lockers and eyed her from head to toe like she was lost property.
"Hey, princess," he smirked. "You don't belong here. Sophomore hall's that way."
Her shoulders tensed and she looked down.
She opened her mouth, probably to apologize, because that's what she did—
But I got there first.
"You have a problem?"
My voice echoed, low and sharp, the way I'd heard my father speak to men he didn't want breathing anymore. I towered over the guy by at least six inches. That alone shut him up.
He blinked.
"Relax, Costa. Didn't know you adopted a kid sister."
"She's not my sister," I said, too fast, too cold. "And she wasn't talking to you."
Daria tugged gently on my sleeve.
"Nico, it's fine."
"No," I said without looking at her. "It's not. Apologize to the girl."
The guy backed up immediately.
"Alright, man. Chill. Fuck. Sorry."
He walked off.
I didn't move until he disappeared around the corner.
Daria exhaled. She looked nervous.
"That was intense. You didn't have to do that. I'm used to people being weird."
"He shouldn't talk to you like that."
"He didn't mean anything. I really don't belong here, you know."
"You belong wherever you want," I said before I could stop myself.
She blinked, surprised.
Then smiled. Soft and sweet and clueless in a way that made my chest pinch again.
"See, I knew we'd be such great friends. Now I'll just call you whenever I need you to intimidate anyone else. Thanks, bestie."
"Don't call me that."
She giggled.
"Always sooo serious Nico."
And I knew, right then, that I'd never be able to forget pink-bow girl and her giggles.
She could easily ruin a man.
Little did I know, I was the man.
Stop, I can bet you haven't read a mafia book like this.
hehe!
Also this is still 5 years ago!