Odd One Out

"Good things come to those who wait."
How much longer do I have to wait?

Iris is different. She wants more. She wants to be free.
She wants love.
But no one understands her. Her only escape is through music.
She's the Odd One Out.
And then, she meets Blake...

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12. First Love

Dear Love,

Is it true?

Have I actually grasped a little bit of you?

Did I see you that day,

Just a slither,

Just a bit of you?

Was that you, Love?

I think it was,

Yours,

Iris x

 

I still can't breathe. I've never felt like this before. What the hell is happening?

Okay, fine, I'll spit it out.

Yesterday. It went kind of like this.

The engineer guy, Craig, called us back in around 4ish to listen to the final product. It felt amazing. It was my work, my song I was listening to, but it was like it was something else. Mum almost cried, and Dad was smiling like an idiot. Charlotte squeezed my hand and told me I had a future ahead of me. The track finished, and Craig spun round in his chair.
"Come back on Monday evening and I'll give you the hard copy on CD," he said with a wink. A CD? I thought I might be sick. This was crazy. An actual CD of me. I thanked everyone a billion times, then Charlotte left my parents with Craig while she showed me where a vending machine was for some water. This is the part! So I was going to grab a bottle of water, and Charlotte nipped off to the toilet. I put the money in but it wasn't working. It kept spitting out the 50p that I kept inserting, and it was all I had so I kept trying again. I must have tried like fifteen times.

"It's not gonna work," A voice said. I sighed and thumped the machine, and it spat my money out yet again. I rolled my neck back.

"Figured." I flicked my 50p in the air and caught it in my palm, banging the vendie again. "All I want is some water!"

"Here, have my 50p," The voice said. I spun round.

"Really?"

Then I took a good look.

Boy. My age, or slightly older. Very dark hair covering forest green eyes. Skin like the sand on a foreign beach. Lips that looked almost feminine, and a jawline to die for. I couldn't breathe. He stood just a bit taller, a guitar bag slung over his shoulder. "Yeah sure," He said, stuffing his hand in his back pocket, pulling out a 50 pence piece. "Swap?"

I had actually lost the will to speak. I nodded, tipping the silver coin into his hand, almost afraid to retrieve his 50p, scared of touching his skin. But I did it.

"Thanks," I whispered, quickly turning back to the machine, slipping the coin into the slot, and thank god it worked. My bottle landed with a thump at the bottom of the vendie. I took it out, unscrewing the cap, making way for the boy. He got a bottle of coke.

"Come here often?" He asked me. I shook my head. "Well do you like it?" I nodded. He kinda laughed, then walked away, flicking his fingers into a pathetic wave. "Maybe see you round."

And with that, he was gone.

And since then, I haven't stopped thinking about him.

Over.

And over.

And over again.

Is this really what love feels like?

Is this what they're on about in those magazines?

Is it really?

I think it is.

And it feels amazing.

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