June had won. June had beat the bully. She was extremely proud of herself, but something about the battle made her lose sleep at night.
The thoughts would creep up out of nowhere. The thoughts built up in the Other June’s empty eyes. Her brown eyes would linger to me when she sat alone at lunch. Her brown eyes would look down at her fidgeting hands. She never talks with anyone.
I guess I’m just curious about what’s going on inside that peanut head of hers. Those chocolate eyes don’t have the same passion as they did before.
Maybe Other June deserved this. Maybe June deserved it. What do they both deserve? June didn’t know. She wanted to know, but with these sorts of things, you don’t get to know.
Everything is a jumbled mess. It will always be a jumbled mess if June doesn’t confront her one last time.