The Beginning of Never (The Never Trilogy #1) by O. E. Boroni Page A

trying to understand what she was talking about, my
mind slinked back to a certain pair of blue eyes.
    This was a healthy diversion I finally decided, and
gave up trying to fight the thoughts off. On other days, my mind would have
wandered away to times with my mom, and all the ways I'd need her in the future
but would never be able to have her with me. Then I'd
think about my dad, and how I hardly ever heard from him. And no, I didn’t
think he was a terrible person, rather, I thought he was just very
self-absorbed.
    His selfishness hurt our relationship, and so did my inability
to look past the fact that because of how miserable he made my mom, she had
literally driven herself to her death. Of course there was more than enough
within the story to vindicate him, but so far, I found that resentment worked
well for me. It kept me angry, and an angry me when it came to my father, kept
me un-emotional, and that was the state I needed to be in to be able to
function.
    I didn’t have any grandparents. My mom had mentioned to
me that it was one of the things she’d expected would connect her so strongly
to my father; the fact that they were both orphans and could lean solely on
each other. It didn’t quite play out as well as she’d hoped.
    Generally, my default thoughts were sooty and
unpleasant so having this, a little excitement at the thought of someone who I
still wasn’t sure what to make of, was a welcome distraction. So I allowed my thoughts to run
wild, and by lunch time, had incited myself so much that I wanted nothing more
than to get another glimpse of him.
    My
safest bet was the cafeteria, so I headed towards it. It was crowded, as usual,
so I didn't take my time at all. After a quick scan, I decided that there was
no sign of him and left. I felt foolish as I wandered through the hallways, my eyes alert in case I ran into him, but there
was of course no such luck. So I decided to go up to the seniors’ floor. It was
meant for the seventeen and eighteen-year-olds, whom were only a few months away from University and the real world. I envied them
and also avoided them, but this was dire.
    I
reached the floor but stopped at the top of the staircase to have a quick look
around. It took only a few curious glares at me for me to snap back to my
senses, and turn away. I was scared that one of them would call me back to ask
what I wanted, so it was only when I walked into my class and exhaled in relief
at a safe arrival, did I allow myself to relax.
    However,
my shoulders drooped in disappointment; where was he and why was he so hard to
find?
    *
    With my backpack slung over my shoulder, the end of the
school day found me heading to the library. As usual, it was almost empty when
I walked in, so I eagerly headed over to my corner and settled down on the carpeted floor to continue my read. It was a
historical novel set in the 1800s which told the love story of a barbaric
highlander, and a prim English aristocrat. It usually helped me escape for a
few hours, but after about an hour, I had to literally stop reading or have my
heart explode from want.
    I
was so jealous of the protagonist. She was in love and careless, consumed by
the thrill of romance and favored by the throes of adventure. It sounded cheesy
enough to choke me, but I wasn’t even joking. Nothing in my own life came close
to being interesting and as far back as I could remember, my budding feelings
for Nathan were the closest I'd ever come to a crush.
    One
time though when I was in the fourth grade, I did pay especial attention to a
really skinny guy just because he told me he liked my hair. But when he also
told me how much he disliked novels because “they weren’t grounded in reality
enough and therefore, a complete waste of time”, my attention to him had
immediately translated to disdain.
    Rising
to my feet, I decided to head into other sections so I could browse for books
on more sensible things that would help take my mind off all the silliness