“Now,” said my ex-crush,
after our pizza
had been delivered to the table,
“I have a question for you.”
For a moment, I forgot to breathe.
I was too busy absorbing what he had told me.
…goading her into suicide…
…shoot up the school…
…she looked weak…
…she’s not stupid…
“How come you’re the Archivist?”
I was so afraid to say something
that I didn’t respond for a few seconds
(making me look more
“Because I just am?
“Really? Real-life people are so boring,” he said.
“That’s why I read.”