Love Letters / Part 1
Yep, another multichapter story. A big thank you to @bitchy-broken because she’s the best <3 And all of your feedback in the last part of Vloggers, of course. Thank you!!
After a long and boring English class with Miss Francis, she exits the room and walks through the large corridor of Stamford College. Monday classes are always shit, in part because she’s tired from the weekend and Chloe is asleep for half of them, so she has to pay attention to prevent further boredom.
She follows their classmates until she stops in front of her locker. She unlocks it with her key and when she opens the door, a note falls to the floor. She kneels to pick it up. Rae knows what it says; she’s been receiving similar notes in her locker for a few days. They all appear to be from the same person, but she didn’t know who.
‘Those knobheads don’t know how amazing you are.’
“What’s that?” Chloe says from beside her, staring at Rae’s hands.
“Nothing. Just notes.”
She crumples the paper in her fist and puts it in her jacket, taking the book she’ll need after the break and follows Chloe. She analyzes both sides of the corridor, trying to figure out who might be sending the notes but she doesn’t have a clue. Archie and his mates are chatting in front of the laboratory. She discards the idea of them throwing notes in her locker. Liam, sitting on the bank, couldn’t have done it. They’re friends, but they’re not that close.
While walking towards the main doors of the school with her best friend, she recalls in her mind memories about the weekend. The note is clear. It must be someone that saw her two days ago with those twats from Stamford. As usual, Big G being a knob-head with his knob-head mates.
Going back home after therapy had been a long journey, followed by them calling her names in front of half the population of Lincolnshire.
“You alright babes?” Chloe asks when she realizes Rae’s not been paying attention to her monologue of James’ muscles in P.E.
“Good, yeah.” She reacts, sitting in the shadow of one of the oldest trees around.
“Are you bothered about that note?” She points at one of Rae’s pockets, raising an eyebrow.
“Must be some dickhead making fun of me… It’s alright.”
“All under control.” She finishes the conversation by opening her bag and playing her new Smiths album on her Discman.
’You are cute when you laugh.’
She reads the next papers, locked in her diary for weeks now.
’Your taste in music is mint! Would like to show you some tunes…’
'When I thought we hadn’t so much in common, I realize you like Oasis.’
She keeps reading the notes she’s been accumulating for the last three weeks and wonders who the fuck writes them.
'I wish I’d had the balls to ask you out, but I’m out of your league.’
Out of her league? She thought when she first read the piece of paper. She thinks the same now. She doesn’t have a league, she’s in the fucking Vauxhall Conference. She doesn’t believe it’s possible for someone to think about her in a romantic way. Boys don’t see her that way.
’You couldn’t possibly like me, though that doesn’t stop me from thinking about you all the time.’
Thinking about her…..?
She kind of likes receiving notes like that one, although she doesn’t believe any of it. Who is he trying to fool?
'You are a beautiful person. In and out.’
Her cheeks burn in an instant. She kind of fantasizes the one sending her notes is a much younger Damon Albarn. One that goes to college with her. She’s just a sixteen year old girl with desires and hope.
Rae opens the door to the pub, taking a glance of the crowd in front of her, drinking and having fun on a Friday night out. The gang is sitting in their usual spot, beside the bar. She approaches them and sits in the remaining chair, taking her jacket off and grabbing some coins from the right pocket of her trousers.
“Next one’s on me, Rae.” Finn says whilst standing up and walking towards the bar and ordering the next round of drinks for the whole table.
She doesn’t answer him until he comes back with her beer. She gives him a soft smile and he answers her back with a wink.
Friday nights are always spent that way. Pints, a few shots and jokes. Loud music and games too.
An hour later, Rae pays for another beer and waits for Izzy to come back from the bathroom, although she’s not sure she’s returning back any time soon as she’s seen Chop following her to the loo. Chloe’s been dancing with a much older lad than her for the last fifteen minutes and Archie is choosing the next song in the jukebox.
She turns her head around to watch Finn staring at her, taking a sip of his drink.
“Mhn?” He doesn’t repeat the question. “Good, I suppose…”
“College alright?” He lowers his eyes, entertaining himself rolling a cigarette.
“Yeah. A bit stressed because of exams, but everything’s okay.” She takes a long sip to her drink and asks him the same. “You?”
“Could be much better…” He guides his eyes to her face once again and drives the side of the paper to his lips, licking with the tip of his tongue the glued paper and closes it all with his fingers at once. Seconds later, he’s sucking at the filter and breathing it in.
They fall into silence again, watching the movement of the pub, jumping at the sound of The Prodigy through the jukebox. Archie doesn’t come back because Chloe grabs him by the hand and dances with him for the next three songs. They chat with a couple of lads, more interested in Archie’s interests than Chloe’s. Rae laughs inwardly at the sight of those two and finishes her drink, watching Finn from the corner of her eye.
“What’s in your head?” She moves a couple of chairs away and sits beside him, bumping his shoulder with her own.
“I don’t believe you…”
He rolls a new ciggy but she stops him from burning it.
“Don’t you think you’ve smoked enough tonight?” She points at his packet of tobacco and furrows her brows. “We’ve been here for nearly hour and a half and you’ve already burnt 6… You okay, Finn?”
He shrugs, finally pressing his lips to the now burnt cigarette and gives her a quick gaze. “Things at home aren’t going really well, actually.”
“Has something happened?” She says, although she kind of know he’s not going to tell her any of his stuff.
Finn is a reserved person who doesn’t like to talk about his private life to anyone. It’s sometimes hard for Archie to find out most of his things, even though they’re best friends. She doesn’t even know why she’s friends with him because she doesn’t really know him at all.
She learnt a few things about him, though. Despite being the last to join the gang, he’s given some of his personal secrets and thoughts; maybe that’s why they are mates. Maybe that’s why they understand each other.
“My Nan was operated on last week.”
She remembers him telling her that. His Nan wasn’t doing well and had to have an operation. Something related to her hip.
“Doctors have said she won’t get through rehabilitation.” He smokes half of the white stick in less than five puffs. “Her bones are too weak.”
“Oh shit…” She whispers against her hand and gives him a squeeze on his left one.
He smiles softly at her, dragging the last sip of his pint in his throat. Rae moves closer to him, passing an arm around his shoulders and gives him a tight hug. He rests his chin beside her beck and whispers a Thanks against her skin.
Monday again and a sleepy Rae walks through the different corridors in order to arrive at science class before the second alarm rings again. Has she said she HATES Mondays? Because she feels like she doesn’t say that enough.
She’s had a boring weekend at home, taking care of her baby sister, her nappies and her cries. She’s not in the mood for classes right now. She just wants to sleep.
She doesn’t pay attention to any word her teacher says. Rae starts drawing different patterns on the corner of the book and writing the lyrics of Layla in a piece of paper.
When the class is finally over, she walks like a zombie (the same way as her classmates) and goes to her locker. When she opens the door, a note lays on top of her jacket and she thinks of her new stalker.
How is it possible someone keeps leaving her notes without her noticing who it is? She has thought about Simmy or Macka, wanting to take the piss outta her but she’s realized they aren’t that smart and the kind of things the letters say don’t seem like their type.
Then, she reads it.
Two sentences. Two sentences that could mean something, everything.
'I like talking to you, and I don’t like talking to anybody.’
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