Carson Emilie NashMature

A slender blonde girl was lounging on a wrought-iron bench, long limbs dangling over the edge. Her mossy green eyes were glued to the worn out sketch book in front of her. She was hard at work attempting to capture the essence of the gigantic half-dead oak tree a couple of yards away. Her pencil lazily danced across the page, adding details and flourishes wherever she felt it was necessary. 

She bit down on her lower lip, smiling at the taste of the eucalyptus lipbalm. The minty taste reminded her of home, which was three-thousand miles away now. 

As she sat there, wiggling her bare feet in the warm September breeze, a pair of guys in khakis and polos walked past. They shot her a look like she was some sort of exotic bird that had wandered onto campus. She sighed and sat up, crossing her legs and sliding her metallic gladiator sandals back onto her feet. She closed her sketch book and brushed her hands over her stretchy dark grey leggings, floaty floral tunic, and ethnic-looking handmade scarf. Her bony wrists jangled with the collection of sparkly bangles on her wrist. 

She couldn't believe that the school year was already starting. She stared at the looming brick buildings that made up the Saint Crambridge, this would be her second year here and her stomach was filled to the brim with butterflies.

Would she meet any hot guys? Would she finally have a boyfriend? The question buzzing around her brain went unanswered as she tapped the pencil to her lip. 

The End

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