selfish bitch. Sorry, I know she’s your sister-”
“We stopped being friends a long time ago, so don’t worry. But I’m not the one that everyone likes. And I wanted you to like me, but I didn’t want to let my feelings show. Because I just couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that someone so kind could actually be truly interested in me, especially as more than just a friend.”
“Well believe it, Heloise. You are so smart and beautiful and you shouldn’t need to have anyone tell you that. You’re bilingual for God’s sake! Do you know how many people I know can fluently speak another language like you can? You start speaking French and you’re immediately lost to the world. And you’re so passionate about cooking and reading, and not to mention I can’t take my eyes off of you whenever I see you. That blue striped turtleneck you wore the other day with your hair back like you usually do and your simple diamond earrings dangling from your ears? My God I couldn’t get that image out of my head. You don’t have to try to be beautiful. You just are.”
She finally lost it and started sobbing like she had done the other night in the shower. Only this time, someone was there to hold her as she cried. Kyle came over to Heloise and enveloped her in a hug and she lost herself in his arms as she rested her head against his chest.
About five minutes later, Heloise had cried herself out and she finally lifted her head from his chest. “So.... I hope you don’t think I want us to move too quickly then, but how about we.... give this a try then? You know, going out and all that.” She’d felt like a weight had been lifted from her heart.
“Definitely,” Kyle responded with a squeeze of Heloise’s hand. “Let’s give this a try. And we’ll see where we go.”
Heloise wanted to cry again in happiness, but she’d cried so much that she didn’t have any left in her. Instead she just grinned and fell back into his arms.
Chapter Nine
She walked over to the shiny red guitar sitting in the corner of the study room. There was her easel in the corner with an unfinished painting from some years ago, a desk with notebooks of ideas scattered across its surface, a bookcase and chair in an opposite corner, and then the red guitar propped up on a stand, just waiting for someone to come along and put it to good use.
Shannon used this study room when she wanted to be alone with her thoughts as she planned out another book and Elodie used to use it when she was really into painting as a middle-schooler. But that hobby had fallen by the wayside as she got into high school. Maybe someday she’d take it up again.
But for now, Elodie was concentrated on the guitar shining in the corner. Her parents had bought it for her as a birthday present two years ago and she had been playing it in secret since then. She remembered some basic music theory from music class as a child, even though she had never played an instrument before then. She supplemented her music knowledge with online tutorials and videos and within six months of first picking up the guitar as an eager fifteen-year-old, she could at least play a few chords.
If she heard a song on the radio, she would look for tablatures online to help her play and she eventually taught herself to play some of her absolute favorite songs. Her first songs were very tentative, but she was growing more confident every time she played.
Of course she had to keep this all a secret. She knew she could never tell anyone else about her love of music. Popular girls like Elodie were supposed to stand around and look pretty in the latest fashions and makeup. They didn’t sit around doing homework for hours on end and they certainly didn’t pay attention in class and learn things.
She remembered how intimidated she had felt when picking up her guitar for the first time and how heavy it felt in her hands. Now it felt light in her delicate fingers as she picked it up around the
“We stopped being friends a long time ago, so don’t worry. But I’m not the one that everyone likes. And I wanted you to like me, but I didn’t want to let my feelings show. Because I just couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that someone so kind could actually be truly interested in me, especially as more than just a friend.”
“Well believe it, Heloise. You are so smart and beautiful and you shouldn’t need to have anyone tell you that. You’re bilingual for God’s sake! Do you know how many people I know can fluently speak another language like you can? You start speaking French and you’re immediately lost to the world. And you’re so passionate about cooking and reading, and not to mention I can’t take my eyes off of you whenever I see you. That blue striped turtleneck you wore the other day with your hair back like you usually do and your simple diamond earrings dangling from your ears? My God I couldn’t get that image out of my head. You don’t have to try to be beautiful. You just are.”
She finally lost it and started sobbing like she had done the other night in the shower. Only this time, someone was there to hold her as she cried. Kyle came over to Heloise and enveloped her in a hug and she lost herself in his arms as she rested her head against his chest.
About five minutes later, Heloise had cried herself out and she finally lifted her head from his chest. “So.... I hope you don’t think I want us to move too quickly then, but how about we.... give this a try then? You know, going out and all that.” She’d felt like a weight had been lifted from her heart.
“Definitely,” Kyle responded with a squeeze of Heloise’s hand. “Let’s give this a try. And we’ll see where we go.”
Heloise wanted to cry again in happiness, but she’d cried so much that she didn’t have any left in her. Instead she just grinned and fell back into his arms.
Chapter Nine
She walked over to the shiny red guitar sitting in the corner of the study room. There was her easel in the corner with an unfinished painting from some years ago, a desk with notebooks of ideas scattered across its surface, a bookcase and chair in an opposite corner, and then the red guitar propped up on a stand, just waiting for someone to come along and put it to good use.
Shannon used this study room when she wanted to be alone with her thoughts as she planned out another book and Elodie used to use it when she was really into painting as a middle-schooler. But that hobby had fallen by the wayside as she got into high school. Maybe someday she’d take it up again.
But for now, Elodie was concentrated on the guitar shining in the corner. Her parents had bought it for her as a birthday present two years ago and she had been playing it in secret since then. She remembered some basic music theory from music class as a child, even though she had never played an instrument before then. She supplemented her music knowledge with online tutorials and videos and within six months of first picking up the guitar as an eager fifteen-year-old, she could at least play a few chords.
If she heard a song on the radio, she would look for tablatures online to help her play and she eventually taught herself to play some of her absolute favorite songs. Her first songs were very tentative, but she was growing more confident every time she played.
Of course she had to keep this all a secret. She knew she could never tell anyone else about her love of music. Popular girls like Elodie were supposed to stand around and look pretty in the latest fashions and makeup. They didn’t sit around doing homework for hours on end and they certainly didn’t pay attention in class and learn things.
She remembered how intimidated she had felt when picking up her guitar for the first time and how heavy it felt in her hands. Now it felt light in her delicate fingers as she picked it up around the
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