Five Nights at Freddy's The Silver Eyes

something in it, but he would never show anybody.” She sighed dreamily. “I figured if I
could get him to show me his poetry, I would really come to know his soul, you know?”
“So did he ever?” Charlie said.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, nodding emphatically. “I asked him out finally, you know,
‘cause he was shy and he was never gonna ask me, and we went to the movies and made
out a little, and then we went and hung out on the roof of his apartment building and I
told him all about how I want to study ancient civilizations, and go on archaeological
digs and stuff. And he showed me his poems.”
“And did you come to know his soul?” Charlie said. She wanted to take
Jessica seriously, but she felt as though her I.Q. might be dropping with every minute
she stayed in this conversation. Jessica scooted forward on the bed to whisper.
“The poems were awful. I didn’t know it was possible to be both
melodramatic and boring at the same time. I mean, like, just reading them made me
embarrassed for him.” She covered her face in her hands. Charlie laughed.
“What did you do?”
“What could I do? I told him it wasn’t gonna work out and I went home.”
“Wait, right after you read his poetry?”
“I still had the notebook in my hand.”
“Oh no, Jessica, that’s awful! You must have broken his heart!”
“I know! I felt so bad, but it was like the words just came out of my mouth, I
couldn’t stop myself.”
“Did he ever speak to you again?”
“Oh, yeah, he’s perfectly nice. But now he takes statistics and economics and
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