Inside Alden’s house, Brock took a piece of paper he was using to
write down notes and, after a few seconds of folding, the paper became a
paper airplane. He held it up in the air with pride, then turned his head
to Alden. Alden was distracted by his history book, or at least that’s
what he wanted Brock to assume. The corner of Brock’s sunglasses noticed
two pictures, each of a different girl. One was Sharon; Brock could
recognize the mid-length blonde hair and apple green eyes anywhere. The
other was of Alden’s current girlfriend, Marlo. Brock knew this because of
the dark brown skin, short black hair with red streaks everywhere, and the
light brown eyes. Brock smirked when he noticed that instead of taking
notes on the Civil Rights project, Alden was writing down words on two
separate columns on his sheet of paper, one side each for Marlo and Sharon.
“I never knew that Marlo and Sharon were connected to the Civil Rights
movement,” Brock mused, tossing his paper airplane into the trashcan.
“What?” Alden said, trying to hide the evidence by slamming his book shut.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude.”
“Sure you don’t,” Brock teased, pulling a sheet of paper from his pocket.
Alden looked at his best friend with an annoyed glance, then re-
opened his history book and a fresh sheet of paper. When he stowed the
pictures and other sheet away, quickly so Brock couldn’t taunt him again,
he noticed Brock uncrumpling the sheet of paper he previously had in his
“Wonder who wrote these?” Brock asked teasingly. “Whoever wrote this is a
great poet, who’s in a lot of heartache. I only read a little bit of the
lyrics so far, but from what I can see, the speaker realizes he was being
stupid in letting this beautiful woman go. Now he thinks it’s too late to
make up for past doings.”
“GIVE ME THAT!” Alden shrieked, yanking the paper from Brock’s hand.
“Where the hell did you get that? You’d better not had taken it from my po-
“So you’re admitting that YOU were one who wrote those lyrics?” Brock
asked, then laughed. “Dude, relax. I’m the only one who knows about
these. I found them earlier on the floor when you left to call your
Before Alden could retort, he felt his jean pockets, then noticed a
hole in the pockets of his jeans. He looked at the size of the hole, then
grimaced and folded his arms across his chest and fumed.
“You win,” Alden confessed bitterly. “I wrote those a couple of days ago.
I don’t know what possessed me to do so. I remember digging through my
desk drawer for a pen, then I find a multi-colored bracelet. Then I
started having flashbacks of me and Sharon together, including when I
dumped her..and now you know where I stand.”
“When did you realize that you still loved her?” Brock asked. “I don’t
think it was when you saw the bracelet; that was when you finally admitted
it to yourself.”
“I think it .almost a few weeks after I dumped Sharon. But by
then, Marlo and I were going out. I figured that the more I was with
Marlo, the less I would miss Sharon.” Alden sighed sadly. “I was wrong.
It only made me miss her even more. Don’t get me wrong; I like Marlo.
She’s fun to hang out with, and great for playing hockey with. ‘s
not Sharon. I have fun with Marlo, but I also had fun with Sharon. And
with always talked about things that mattered; like environmental
issues, animal rights, and politics. I also missed ..”
“Go on,” Brock urged.
“When I was with Sharon, I always felt like she needed me. It was one of
the reasons I dumped her. But now.I realize how much I missed that
feeling. How much I missed her.”
For a while, there was silence between Brock and Alden. Then Brock
made a fake cough.
“So, what’re you gonna do?” Brock asked.
“I have no idea,” Alden confessed. “I still love I don’t want
to hurt Marlo’s feelings.”
“You’re in a serious dilemma,” Brock said. “The irony: you have three
sisters, and you have little to no clue about the mind of a girl.”
“HEY!” Alden shouted, then grabbed his pillow and smacked Brock’s face
~To Be Continued~