Miss Incomplete | ✓

22 | He Loves Me Not

"I don't know," Julian scratches the back of his neck, "I don't like her like that."

"I understand that," not understanding why I'm so persistent about this, "but this is now your choice. I can't help you anymore; I've gotten you here and now you gotta decide on what you want to do with this. Maybe she could be Miss Incomplete, or maybe she could get us ideas to who Miss Incomplete is—I don't know. I just know, it's your choice now."

Julian sighs, "I don't know, I kinda like this girl..."

Tasha.

"It could give you a clean break from Tasha as well, I mean, it gives you a chance to move on, y'know?" An instant frown formed on his lips, "I mean, it's been three years, you should move on."

He doesn't say anything at first, before nodding his head, "Okay, I'll talk to her," he declares, "it's the best shot at finding Miss Incomplete, right?"

Yeah.

—

"—I told him to ask her out," I completed the last detail of the story to my best friends as we stained the couch in my home; while one looks shocked at the reveal of Miss Incomplete, the other one doesn't look too fazed.

"Wait, so Erin Jacobs, one of the most popular girls in school, is Miss Incomplete?" Graham asks and his mouth opened a gap in pure shock, "and you're telling me, she likes Dean?"

Iris slaps his arm, "what is up with you and your disbelief to liking Julian? Julian isn't a bad looking guy, I mean, think of it, our best friend was practically in love with him for the consistent of her middle school years."

"I wouldn't say love," I clarify, "but yeah; definitely really like him."

"I'm not saying it impossible to like the kid, but Dean?" Graham queries, "I'm like ten times hotter than that guy."

I laugh, shaking my head, "sure, sure, say that to make yourself feel better," Iris laughs, rolling her eyes, "the guy isn't even my type, but damn."

I laugh again, louder this time, as Graham shoots a pointed look in Iris' direction, "are you saying I'm not your type? Is that what you're saying Rose?" Graham accuses, "causes that hurts; that hurts here." The boy places his hand on his heart, causing me to bellow louder.

"Whatever, idiot," Iris shoves Graham out of her space, she jabs a finger to my direction, "if it makes feel any better, she's not my type either."

"Slightly better,"

"What's your type then?" I ask, becoming curious at the bringing of types. From the seven years I've known Iris, I don't think I've ever heard her mention she had a crush on a guy before. Like ever. "If Graham is under your league, and so is Julian, where does your standards land?"

Iris sighs, slightly blushing, "umm," she stalls, causing my eyes to widen; Iris never blushes. "It's stupid. Never mind."

"No, no, I want to hear this," Graham said, placing his chin in his palm as he waits for Iris' answer. "Who in the ever world can make up Rose's standards?"

"Soccer players," Iris blurts out, "I'm really into soccer players."

"What!" Graham shrieks. He jumps to his feet, waving at himself, "I am a soccer player!"

"You're not my type," Iris laughs, "I've seen you too much in superhero underwear."

"Jesus Christ," Graham sits back down, gloomy, "am I not anyone's type?"