Something Exchanged

She came up to me, running, out of breath, excited with gleaming eyes that shouted. I looked at her with interest, observing her carefully I said, “What is it Peyton, why that funny look on your face?” She looks at smirks, shrieks and blurts out loud “Its here, the one thing that is bound to make you happy is here.” I think of chocolate and ice cream, good grades and a new laptop but not even once does the actual thing cross my mind. “He sent something, his friend Jamal just handed it over to me” she says, smiling.

He sent me something. WHAT. NOWAY.

I look at her, making sure that my expression is a straight face, not giving away my keen interest or excitement or shock and I say “OH!” That’s all I say, I don’t shriek or start jumping around which I should have done considering how ecstatic I was.

Peyton hands me over a small package; I take it from her and stuff it into my bag.

“You aren’t opening it” she says bewildered.

I raise my left eyebrow to make my 3 year younger sister buzz off.

She raises her hands in surrender and says, “Okay, okay. I understand, you need your space, its your life, you don’t want me to see what’s in it”, “Also, you don’t want me to tell mom and dad about it”

I smile at her contentedly, “You are getting smarter by the  second little sister” I say.

She smiles back at me, understanding my sarcasm. “See ya soon big sista who is obviously in love with Omar,” she says.

I hide my scarlet red face by turning around

(When you move around while blushing, the blood from your cheeks starts flowing throughout your body, so you are no longer red, hence MOVEMENT IS MANDATORY.)

As she walks away, jamming her fingers on her phone, typing away noisily, I proceed towards my realm, my room.

I lock the door behind me; sit on my bed, facing the package, apprehensive and freaked out.

Should I open it or not, it could break my heart but nevertheless I choose to open it and deal with the result later.

The package consists of a Black Diary which has Omar’s journal written on the jacket cover. (I’m a little more hopeful than I should be)

Backflips, butterflies and somersaults seem to take over my stomach and controlling me completely.

I slowly open the Journal, reading it carefully, word by word, page by page and then faster, flipping through the pages, flying through them till I reach the last page.

I stop.

Am I ready to know the end to this unbelievable story?

Maybe/maybe not.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath and heave a sigh.

LETS DO IT.

I read the entire page, holding my breath, in one go.

There is a wide grin on my face when it ends, I look into the mirror and see the smile lighting up the corners of my eyes.

HE LOVES ME. HOLY SHIT. HE REALLY DOES.

CRAP.CRAP.CRAP.

SHIT.SHIT.SHIT.

He wrote an entire journal about me, how he stalked me everyday, how happy he felt when he saw me, how I made him feel stuff that he hadn’t ever before.

I felt like a princess, I mean it isn’t often that you get a gift that is not materialistic and has more value than all the materialistic gifts in the world put together.

I close the journal and hug it closer to myself and notice a note sticking at the back.

“If you feel the same way about me, come and meet me behind the school auditorium tomorrow morning at 7am, really hope you come- Omar”

And that is how the fairy-tale of a lifetime began, with the exchange of love, the exchange of feelings, the exchange of that black journal and hearts.

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