Like Lovers Do

When a tree sheds off its leaves, it is left bare for the cold, harsh winter winds to peck at. It is left in its naked form until spring rolls along and the leaves form and color beautifully. When it is strong, beautiful and solid again, it begins to enjoy the warmth of the sun, basking in it.

And then autumn comes and it must brace itself for the sharp winter again. It does not want to lose its coat though, it does not want to go through the process again.

Regardless, said season comes and the tree cries again.

"Don't even think about it."

At the sound of these words, Henry Anderson, slowly averted his attention to his on-and-off again girlfriend - this week being an 'off' one - Amelia Jacks. "She's unapproachable, Andy." Henry, preferably "Andy", was caught shamelessly staring at the object of his interest; Marie Luce.

Not carnal desire, but interest.

A small grunt. He was not persuaded yet.

A sharp intake of breath and she slid next to him. "That girl is like a fucking saint. Not only will you ruin your rep, but hun, as much as I don't want to come to her defense, you'll taint her," she hissed out in warning, seething with not only jealousy but aggravation. He was hers and hers alone. She wasn't willing to split his attention with someone like Marie.

"Go away, Amy," he grunted.

Anderson was a man of little words, however, when he did talk, his words stung either the heart or the mind. He didn't like talking; all the unnecessary noise made his head hurt. One of the many reasons why he chose to break things off with the girl next to him - he was getting tired of her mindless chatter and colorful vocabulary.

Her lips pursed into a tight line, eyes glaring at the girl sitting alone at the table a few feet away.

"Fine," she spat out, viciously. It was short and simple; the only way to voice out her annoyance. Just as Anderson started thinking she was gone, his hopes plummeted when more words escaped her lips.

"But that girl is just like Black Betty; a fucking outcast that nobody has the time for."

Amelia stormed away, glaring daggers at anyone crossing her.

Noise drowned out his sighs of exasperation.



Marie read the same sentence over and over again. She knew that she was probably one of the few handful of students with strong religious beliefs.

With a school that 'converted' to either Atheism or Agnosticism like it was a fad, she was bound to be treated differently, as if they were expecting her to force the Bible in their hands.

Fiddling with the cross that dangled over her chest, she closed her eyes and wished for the strength to carry on confidently and unaffected by their stares of disapproval and judgment.