in a single second it was over.
me: you know, i never thought i'd actually have a date for prom.
him: i didn't think i was going to go to prom again.
me: why not?
him: just some bad experiences.
me: crazy ex?
him: she wasn't crazy, just...
me: just what?
him: we weren't meant to be together.
me: okay.
him: a - a friend of mine had wanted to with her, but never told me. by the time i had asked her, it was too late. she was excited to be going with me and i was probably the shittiest friend on the planet.
me: how were you supposed to know?
him: i should've.
me: it wasn't your fault.
him: so yeah, prom was insanely awkward. she tried to kiss me in the car afterwards, i tried to move out of the way, and she ended up chipping her tooth on the wheel.
me: damn.
him: i told you so.
me: i'm surprised you came with me after an experience like that!
him: i wanted your first prom to be better than mine.
me: as long as i don't chip a tooth, ha!
him: that's not funny.
me: it is and you know it! your life might be more of an awkward silence than mine!
him: probably is, really.
me: you're not supposed to agree!
him: ...
me: ....
him: so why did you think you'd be going alone?
me: my milkshakes don't exactly bring all the boys to my lawn.
him: what about me?
me: oh, you don't count.
him: how?
me: well, you know me. like - some people will just ask someone they have a fleeting crush on. you know what i mean? i'm not anyone's fleeting crush.
him: that's because the emotions people have for you are much more than 'fleeting'
me: you're biased.
him: a bit, yeah.
me: you make me happy.
him: you make me feel like i'm going somewhere.
me: ...
him: somewhere with lots of cake.
me: moment ruiner.
him: you love it.
me: i do.
him: should we go home?
me: we could stop at the after prom.
him: you really want to?
me: did you ever go to the after prom at your old school?
him: there wasn't much time for that after sarah started crying and calling her parents over a chipped tooth.
me: new life experience?
him: why not?
me: stay away from the pot.
him: you think there's going to be pot?
me: i don't know. what do you think?
him: there better be cake.
me: weirdo.
him: shall we?
me: guide the way!
him: where did we park the car?
me: shit.
him: first one there gets to ride in the front seat!
me: we both sit in the front!
him: you're just chicken!
me: wait, come back!
him: muahaha! you're losing! horribly!
me: shut up, i'm coming!
transferred from tearing paper towels, to fine notepad paper.
YOU ARE READING
little talks
Randomi needed to write down almost everything he had said, to reassure myself that he had been real, that we were something that lasted; at least for a little while. - nina [ © jude rigor two-thousand-&-thirteen ]
