Arthur's POV

    "This is Arthur," Alita said before three girls with pretty faces and rich smiles. 

    I waved to them. "Hey." 

    "Hey," They chorused.

    "I'm Margaret," A girl with a smile that shows her dimple said.

    "I'm Anne."

    "I'm Jennifer."

    "Follow me," Alita said. And we walked past the girls under the dried tree. Dried leafs crumbled under my shoes. And I enjoyed its crumpling sounds. It makes me feel like matching more. Long ago, as a child, I remembered Helen throwing soiled stones at me, and I matched them with my barefoot. And it crumbled. I laughed when Jane matched it too but didn't. It softens instead. Her eyes filled with tears, ready to rain. Little did she know I matched the dried one but she matched the loamy one. And I felt superior. And here, the nostalgic feelings come back to me. And here, crumpling more dried leaves besi