Until you showed up at my school senior year. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised when you didn’t move with Poppy and Edgar. I took it as a personal offense. Was I not good enough? Were you disgusted with me? By me? You were pure, beautiful, talented, and carefully tucked in your own rich world of art, books, and music. I was torn, miles away, in a rich beach town I hated, a kid who’d seen and felt way more than he should have. A part of me wanted our worlds to collide so I could burst yours and tear it to pieces, and another wished we’d never see each other again. And then you came.
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