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Literature Text
Maple valley is overall quaint. The teenagers here are a lot less rebellious and it's mostly quiet. You've lived here for 2 weeks when there's a knock on your door. You answer it and despite it being 2 in the afternoon, you're still in your pajama's. The man at the door is holding a cake, he wears a fedora and formal wear. You raise your eyebrows, raking her still numb fingertips through your hair. "May I help you?" You ask, voice rugged from lack of sleep. You've done more crying than anything else. The man smiles and thrusts the cake forward. "Me and my son, John, made a cake to welcome you to the neighborhood. Excuse the welcome being so late, John was being stubborn and refused to touch the cooking supplies. I'm James Egbert, It's very nice to meet you....?" He pauses for emphasis and you shrug lopsidedly and accept the cake, "(F/N). (F/N) (L/N)." Before you have time to react, he's shaking your hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Come visit us sometime, will you? I'm sure John would love to show you around at some point." You nod in reply and watch as he leaves. Theres one thing that strikes you as weird. When Mr. Egbert enters his house, you noticed a face in the side window. You could already tell they were looking directly at you, but the face was gone too soon for you to guess who it was. You shrugged and went inside, plopping the cake on the counter. You rub your eyes tiredly and yawn, crawling onto the couch. You stretch out entirely, burrying your chin in the crook of your arm as you flip through channels. The face you saw in the window never crosses your mind again.
~~~
Two weeks later and Mr.Egbert hasn't bothered visiting you again. Your life goes on as usual, and half of the time you pass out on the couch. You often wake up at night and find a paper bag of cold fast food on the coffee table. There's always a stickynote on the front saying 'I'm sorry,' In neat cursive. You eat quietly, the cheese stale on your tongue and your stomach begins to churn. You bow your head and toss everything into the bag. You take the stickynote and put it in a notebook, where there's about 27 other stickynotes saying the same thing. All from your father, and you've kept them all.
~~~
Not two days later, your father aproaches you. He sits beside you and lightly touches your shoulder. You hug him, listen to his voice as he talks to you, shushes you, and says something that stops you cold. "I've made some arrangments," He says, tightening his grip on you and combing his fingers through your hair. "I don't like seeing you like this, (F/N). It breaks my heart. So...So I had a nice conversation with James. We agreed you and his son should meet." You tear away from your father and run upstairs. You already explained this to him. You didn't want any new friends. Though deep down, you know you did. You really really did. And it hurt because you felt shy and stupid and just wanted to feel whole again.
~~~
A week later you meet your newfound, blue eyed, black haired, dork of a crush. John Egbert.
~~~
Two weeks later and Mr.Egbert hasn't bothered visiting you again. Your life goes on as usual, and half of the time you pass out on the couch. You often wake up at night and find a paper bag of cold fast food on the coffee table. There's always a stickynote on the front saying 'I'm sorry,' In neat cursive. You eat quietly, the cheese stale on your tongue and your stomach begins to churn. You bow your head and toss everything into the bag. You take the stickynote and put it in a notebook, where there's about 27 other stickynotes saying the same thing. All from your father, and you've kept them all.
~~~
Not two days later, your father aproaches you. He sits beside you and lightly touches your shoulder. You hug him, listen to his voice as he talks to you, shushes you, and says something that stops you cold. "I've made some arrangments," He says, tightening his grip on you and combing his fingers through your hair. "I don't like seeing you like this, (F/N). It breaks my heart. So...So I had a nice conversation with James. We agreed you and his son should meet." You tear away from your father and run upstairs. You already explained this to him. You didn't want any new friends. Though deep down, you know you did. You really really did. And it hurt because you felt shy and stupid and just wanted to feel whole again.
~~~
A week later you meet your newfound, blue eyed, black haired, dork of a crush. John Egbert.
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Today was the day, [Name]. Today was the day. However, [Name] wished that today was a better day. It was absolutely below freezing on her end, and since her mom was so frugal, the heater stayed on low. So, she had to walk around her house in a nice fluffy coat and scarf, mug of hot chocolate never leaving her side. But, back on the subject of Today. The day. The day, more specifically, that she'd get to see her friend Dave for the first time, thanks to the new video-chat thing she just installed in pester-chum. Allow the "Woot Woot"'s to commence. What a day this would be.
She stepped into her room, turning on her little portable heater to
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Awwww! I can't wait for more, this is so cool