Hasta La Gadget!

This is a regular column featuring original poetry and fiction by and for teens, provided by Figment.com, an online community writing site for young people.

By Tyra Lechner

There was a small click and I knew we were locked in. It was pitch black. If I wasn’t clutching onto his jacket, I wouldn’t know he was there. He was so quiet too. That’s always how he was. I smiled sheepishly, even though he couldn’t see it. He let out a long breath and something in his torso moved. Maybe he was rubbing his knuckles along his jaw, the way he often did when he was thinking, or running his fingers through his hair, the way he did when he smiled. Or when he was flustered.

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