Sweetheart [Scömíche] #fanficfriday #Slash

The Confusion In The Fine Print

I couldn't help but lie awake last night, wondering if Mitch actually would've kissed me if Meghan hadn't walked through the door. He was leaning in...and closing his eyes...but I can't help but wonder. Maybe he was only teasing, or he was testing me or...I don't even know.

If couples read the contract and skipped the fine print at the bottom of the page before becoming a ray of togetherness, would couples be couples? Really...I'm asking.

Today, I'm determined to get to the bottom of the whole situation about last night. It's disturbing that I've put so much thought into such a simple act. It never really crossed my mind that this is probably why girls break down in those dumb hallmark movies.

Or...that may be the hormones.

The world has ruined me.

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Mitch sat in the desk that I usually sat in for fourth period. As I walked through the door, I found myself smiling when we made eye contact. Like a giddy little school girl meeting Zack Efron or something.

I sat in his usual, the desk beside me and began to take out my calculator and notebook like the board said. I could feel his eyes, so I made an effort to hurry up so I could look at him.

Today, he wore a brown, fuzzy sweater and jeans. His hair was swept to the side, like it usually is. And, he also had a crumpled up note in his hand.

As the teacher, Mr. Berg, walked into the room, he slid his hand into mine. His fingers had to have been in lotion for a year. They were soft and it seemed so effortless to maintain perfect hands. Not one of his cuticles were out of place or anything.

I felt him drop the note, squeeze my hand lightly, and let go as he turned his attention full on to the lesson that nobody actually listened to.

My cheeks flourished as I read on.

Now that I know you're not going to murder me, how about we ditch work and escape for a bit? And you know...maybe we XO. (;
-M

This was an indirect way of asking me out.

Me, of all people!

I had to reply. Of course, I say yes. I'd be an idiot not to...but I need to find a way to not make it look needy. That's the thing with notes; you can change your voice all you want. But if you write it down and it's stupid, they don't even have to reply to you. They just keep your note and move on with life, while you fidget in your chair, wondering what you do to deserve the things you get in life. Eventually, I find a simple, yet easy answer to start written conversation.

Can you turn my lights out like Beyoncé?
-S

Ooh, after I'm done with you, my face is all you'll see.
-M

Than we have a plan. Tomorrow after school?
-S

Sounds great...darling. ;)
-M

And after this back and forth, we exchange numbers and I enter his contact while Mr. Berg continues to talk about pre algebra, something we learned about...four years ago.

About thirty minutes later, the bell rings, and it's lunch. Mitch causally asks me to walk with him to his locker, to which I say sure, why not. On the way to this, Mitch looks up at me and says, "I'm sorry for last night."

I look down at him, puzzled. Last night was seconds away from becoming amazing. There was nothing to be sorry about. "You shouldn't be."

"No, I'm sorry I didn't act fast enough. You would've pulled away if you didn't like me in that way. You wouldn't have accepted my invitation on a date, either. And it's embarrassing to say, but all I've been thinking about since last night is what I missed out on." My cheeks burn again, and he smiled. "You're cute when that happens."

Cute. CUTE. C. U. T. E.

"Yeah, well..." We reach his locker, and he pulls out his key.

"Don't worry, I'm excited about making you red in other ways." My eyes must've popped out of my skull, because A.) I felt like my eyes snapped, and B.) He laughed his head off. "Jesus, you're so cute. We laughed it off, even though I felt like I wanted to die.

In a good way, though.

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After work later on, my phone buzzed to life as I was working on last minute homework.

Mitch: thinking bout candy right now..and u. XD

Scott: and I'm thinking about triceratops

Mitch: ...

Scott: *causally flies around on a triceratops*

Mitch: a triceratops doesn't even fly, stupid. :)

Scott: and now you see why I'm socially awkward

Mitch: ...the world makes more sense.

Scott: haha really doe. Can't wait 4 tom.

Mitch: I'm glad. Because I...I kind of sort of like you and even though I don't know you're deep stories yet I feel like I've known you for a lot longer.

I now realize that I hold valuable information. The world is different now.

Scott: you seem to make me blush all through writing, you know that?

Mitch: haha, darn. Like to see it in person.

Scott: yep. And I like you to. More than 90's music.

Mitch: oh, I'm so flattered. :/ *laughs*

We talk longer, but it's more playing than anything.

Things similar to role play or weird scenarios that made me LOL. (See what I did there?) huh...I hate myself.

Scott: *casually leans over and touches hand to shoulder blade*

Mitch: *takes skin between teeth*

Scott: *casually dies*

Mitch: I'm dead. I'm DEAD. You killed me and I'm dead.

Scott: well we'll die as a socially awkward team

Mitch: there's the spirit.

It felt quite weird to talk like this with anyone. In my two tears of working as a candy seller, I've never texted somebody like an actual friend. Meghan's parents don't like phones, and Troye and Tyler would probably be too busy throwing parties to text back.

Mitch: gotta go pick out an outfit that matches your eyes. :3

Scott: okay. Need to buy shoes that comment your face

Mitch: okay later! And don't forget: xoxo

Scott: oh trust me, that's all that's on my mind.

I'm an awful human being.

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