"I can write a 47 page essay on how it cannot happen."
How it happened.
Someone threw a party at my house, I don't remember who or why, but I do remember that it was a sunny Sunday afternoon.
As the teen owner of the house, of course I had to hang out with the kids. Except there was M.
As the kids chatter around my room, entertaining themselves with their little iPads, M decided to plop down on my ikea bedsheets.
He laid down, his elbows holding him up. I sat down, legs crossed, hands folded in my lap.
Of course it was awkward. Ten year olds I've never seen are going through my drawers. A boy from my history class whom I've never talked to or even know the name to, is on my bed, humming.
As the people-pleaser, I stood up and asked,"I'm going downstairs, do you guys want something to drink?"
All the kids replied with their favorite juice while I try my best to remember.
As I notice the silence coming from M, I walked over, close enough so he could hear my question over the screeching kids.
I asked my question.
M smirked.
Grabs my arm.
Leans his face towards me.
Face to face.
Whispers alluringly.
"You should ask the question you are dying to ask."
Pulls me closer.
Ear to lips.
Whispers once more.
"Do I like you?"
I felt his breath fan against my ear, driving me to desperation.
After hearing the suggestive question, I flinched, wondering why he would imply me being interested in him, by hinting his flirtatious interest.
It was quite astonishing, how a boy I've never given a second glance to, would imply, me taking interest in him.
"Bitch, chill. Do you want a drink or not?"
Little did I know how much his question would impact me.
YOU ARE READING
M.
General Fictionjust to document a nonexistent relationship. very uncool. very unexciting. maybe fantasy. maybe not all about you. might be crazy. might be about you.
