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Rated: E · Campfire Creative · Novel · Romance/Love · #1355408
A romance about a girl that thinks she isn't good enough for her one true love. (clean)
[Introduction]
INTRODUCTION

Please keep this story clean, PLEASE! I seriously beg of you. I hope that maybe This will be seen by somebody important, and I would rather it be a mild romance book than a sexual one, PLEASE do not mention that subject. Otherwise, you may use whatever you want with the characters. You may let the characters kiss, but nothing past that, please. There are no other rules, make the chapters long and you need to always remember to have fun! If you want invited to the campfire, click the "request invitation" button at the bottom. You will be accepted.




Chapter One

Claire fought on her old, worn sneakers. She had been bugging her mother to get her a new pair, but lately she had something more important to concentrate on. A boy has moved into the school district, and was drawing a croud impeccably quick. This was a very hard thing to do at the age of 15. Claire started to take an interest in him also. The months passed, and Claire fell madly in love with him. He didn't even know that she existed, but she knew everything about him. His name was Mike, he played on the football team, and the basketball team, he loved animals and was friendlier than most of the popular kids in our school. Most people in the school are offended now by the term of kids, they prefer "young adults" which they are not. No matter how anyone tried to put it, they would always be kids. Claire was so in love wih this boy, this man in her eyes. He was exeptionally good looking and was muscular. Claire looked down at herself. She was wearing the beat up sneakers, an old plaid skirt, a white turtle neck, and my gold locket hung around my neck. She thought that if she had any sort of a chance with him, she would have to hold a relationship without him ever seeing her. This seemed impossible. She hung around the girls' lavatory parts of the day thinking about what to do, pacing across the tile floor. She never liked the floors in the bathroom. They were all the same. None of them stood out from the others. She adjusted her thick large glasses, they were duct taped in the middle from the many times they had snapped, and the lenses were so thick, sometimes the glasses would slide off of her face. "What if I, um..." Claire thought aloud. "What if I wrote him notes and shove them in his locker?" She asked herself many questions, but almost all of them had to do with the notes. "I think this might work." She resolved to write him the notes in English class, where she knew what was coming around every corner. She took out the black extra-permanent marker from her pocket and colored in a white tile in her favorite stall. "I'm going to be the one to stick out." She told herself.
Later on in English class, she took her notebook out. It was her most used notebook, and the pages had been stained yellow by time and fingers running through the pages, tracing every line. It was time to take out her letter pen. She used her letter pen only when she was writing letters to be sent to a very important person, and only on certain instances. This was one of those. She pressed the pen against the paper hard, as if words wouldn't come out unless forced. She couldn't settle on what to write, or how to write it. She finally decided on starting the note with the words: Dearest Mike, I think that I've fallen into a hole too deep for one person to get out of, the hole represents a heart full of love. There is not anything for me to grab on to, so I can not pull myself out. I have to ask you if you will help me out of the hole, you can do that, or you can jump in with me.
I used many more dramatic and drawn out sentances before I finally closed with: Sincerely and forever true,
Your Secret Admirer.

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