''Ow!'' Said the brunette while rubbing her head.
''Sorry!'' I said as I ran towards her.
''Don't you know the courtyard, where you guys supposed to play?'' She spatted at me then walked away.
World War II already started but our country was one of those who stayed neutral. So compare to others who joined, ours was much more peaceful.
I'm Drew Malcom, studying at our local university. For some reason, I still couldn't forget that girl's angry face.
One day, when I went to the library to borrow some books, I saw her.
''I thought you are studying.'' I said as I sat beside her.
She's reading novels.
''It's not your business, isn't?'' She raised an eyebrow at me.
''Why do I get the feeling that you don't like me?''
''Why do I get the feeling that you're annoying?'' She countered.
''I'm just trying to be nice.''
''So nice that can make others mad at you.'' She said then continued to read.
''So you're mad at me?'' She didn't answer.
I sighed. Maybe she really hates me so I just stood up and left.
''Drew!'' Jack passed the ball to me.
Unfortunately, I missed the ball and it landed in the hallway again.
As I went to get it, I heard faint cries and decided to go where it was.
''What's wrong?'' I asked her.
She jerked up and dried her face.
When I thought that she wouldn't speak, I decided to leave but she stopped me midway.
''Don't tell to others.'' She said.
''If you tell me the reason, then I won't.''
''I - ah...'' She debated.
''So?'' I asked.
''Fine. I'd just been carried away with this story.''
Then, she held out a small thick book.
"Oh." That's the only thing that I managed to say.
Bookish, I thought.
"So don't tell to others. It will be too embarrassing." She unwillingly pleaded.
"Okay - ." Her eyes slightly started lit up.
"Only if you'll be nice to me." I said winking at her.
Her eyes grew wide and her face blushed.
"So?" I pressed.
"Okay!" She resigned.
Smile curved up in my lips.
''So friends, miss?'' I held out my hand.
''Christine.'' She said and took it.
When I don't have class, I always came to the library to see her. If I'm lucky, I managed to engage her in some conversations. Though it's like that, I enjoyed her company especially when Christine talked about the novels she read. Her eyes glimmered as she fondly told me the different plots she adored.
''Can I talk to you?'' My mom started as she entered my room.
''What is it?'' I turned and asked her.
Before saying anything, she began to cry.
''I don't wanna let you go.'' She said between sobs.
I walked up to her and caressed her back.
''What's wrong Mom?'' I asked worriedly.
''The government issued that all capable boys aged 18 and above should be send to war as a help for US.''
''But our country is neutral, we shouldn't cooperate - .''
''Yes but you know politics. Surely there's a catch for our president in this." She managed to explain.
Somewhere in my heart, I knew this peace won't last long.
''Why don't you write your own story?'' I remembered asking Christine one day.
''Why would I?'' She asked, still reading.
''Because I think you can, given that you really love it and truthfully, you're good at writing'' I said as a matter of fact.
''Why do you think?'' She looked at me.
''I read one of your essays you left in the lib.'' I wiggled my eyebrows at her.
''Why, you! Give it back!'' She tried to hit me with her book but I caught both of her arms.
''I don't want to. Finders keepers.'' I winked at her.
Christine's face grew more red and freed her arms.
''Do what you want.'' She said then pouted.
Before leaving, I spent my remaining free days with Christine and my family. I didn't tell her that I'll go in the war because I don't want her to worry, if she would. But I left her with a present and letter afterwards.
Three years passed, luckily I'm still alive and managed to come back.
I went to their house to visit her but sadly, it's empty and seemed like it was not inhabited for years.
The door was unlocked so I went inside. My gut was telling me that I should go to her room, so I did.
The room was so messy and the things left in it were almost broken and rugged out. I saw the typewriter I gave her. I wanted Christine to write her own stories so I gave her one. I walked towards it and noticed the few papers tucked beneath it.
I thought it was a message but it's a story about the girl who fell in love in with a guy who had the complete opposite personality with her. She never confessed because she don't have the courage to do so. And when the boy finally admitted his feelings, fate played with their lives. He suddenly left with his family because of their own reasons and at the same time, the girl was diagnosed with tuberculosis. Even as death knocked at her door, she patiently held her love for the boy. And before she passed away, the girl a note to the boy:
''I'll wait for you forever...
For a moment, I stared at the present I gave her then cried.