Chapter One - Sam
I walk through the halls of school, observing the art work that was displayed by the art teacher. I just left my second period and have a free period. I am heading towards the school library to look for a book. I usually don't read, but I've decided that I should get a move on reading. It would help me in literature.
My eyes lock on a book as soon as I enter the library. I race over to it and pick it off the shelf to read the back. This book actually looks interesting, so I sit down at a table and flip to the first page. I am immediately absorbed into the book and do not notice a girl sitting in the corner, trying to silence her tears. It just seems as if that's part of the book.
I look at the clock and realize I've been in the library for an hour. I, now, was almost half way through the book, because it was small-only four hundred pages, about. I ask the library if I could borrow the book, and she nods her head. I walk out of the library, feeling like I forgot to do something.
I visit my locker and open it. A folded up piece of paper falls onto the floor. I place my foot on it and put the book in the locker. I, then, bend to pick up the paper. I sit against the wall of lockers and unfold it. Chloe Maure is a dirty girl,
the note read. Pass it on.
Chloe Maure. The name races through my head as I try to sort out the girl. "She's not dirty," I say aloud. Chloe is very modest. Wait. Who was that girl in the library?
Chapter Two - Chloe
I can't believe my eyes as I read a note that was balled up and tossed at my head. Chloe Maure is a dirty girl. Pass it on.
I almost cry, but I can't allow myself to disrupt Mr. Heffer's history class. It would be too embarressing. The note was obviously for someone else. One does not just pass notes about a person to that same person.
As soon as the bell rings, I run towards the library-the only place I can sit and cry. I sit down in a corner and pull my legs up to my chest. I bow my head and rest it on my knees. Why would someone say this about me? I let a tear escape my eye, and then, it just rolls downhill. My back heaves up and down as I use more air to cry. I am making strange noises. I hear footsteps and look up, my hair concealing my red, wet eyes. I see a boy walk into the library and stop at a nearby shelf. I indentify him almost immediately as Sam Williams.