She sat in the dining room
Of her parents' house,
Reading cases and materials
In Criminal Law,
Flashing back to days
When mischief was her only concern
And all she wanted
Was to be a pretty skinned girl
So that he would see her.
Just five years ago
She sat in this same seat,
Sipping Lemon-lime soda,
Longing to be ascertained.
She wore oversized hoodies,
Baggy jeans,
Her hair always slicked back
In a raggedy ponytail.
But she wished for his attention,
hung onto his every word,
wanted so badly for him to see past
her rugged exterior.
She waited. And waited. And waited.
And today,
While attempting to finish her assignment
Her phone vibrated
And his name flashed bright across the screen.
She glanced quickly at the phone
And goose pimples tickled her arms.
She was determined not to answer.
When the vibrating stopped,
There was one new voicemail.
His voice,
Low and raspy,
Echoed in her ear.
Her soul blinked.
"I love you," he said.
She wiped a single tear
From her eye
And resumed reading.
He was too late.
He was always too late.
