Part 24
“May I?” Mark asked reaching for the paper. He studied it for a moment then agreed. “It’s just like mine. A poorly written poem that's incoherent."
Lola sat on down on her bed and rubbed her forehead. It was true, she thought. She knew Kyle was trying to tell her something, and she was going to find out what it was.
Part 25
Lola traced her fingers against the grooves left in the paper. His handwriting was familiar as his voice had been. She read the lines over and over trying to find some kind of truth in their meaning.
Mark leaned against the dresser across from her, and rubbed his chin scratching his day old whiskers.
"Could you bring your letter to me? Would you mind terribly?" she asked. "Maybe if I just saw the two of them together...maybe it would make more sense," she almost whispered to herself.
Mark looked down at his watch. The evening was starting to slip into view, and he stood there still soaked in his socks, his stomach rumbled noisily.
"If I go home now, I could shower and meet you back here with it." he looked down at her, a thought lost in his eyes. He sighed heavily. "Maybe I could take you to dinner and properly apologize."
Lola searched his face. There was more he wasn't saying, and she could feel it. She wanted to trust him, she knew she needed to.
"Ok," she said. "Come back in an hour, and I'll be ready."
Mark stepped closer to her, arms crossed, a question etched in his face, but something seemed to change his mind, and took a step back.
"Alright, Lola, I will see you in an hour," he said. "Maybe you should do something to warm up too...your lips are blue," he smiled softly, patted her shoulder, and then strode from the room leaving her alone with her thoughts.
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