Like Every Single Song Is About You

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Over the next couple of days, it was just me constantly pestering Dom (not that it was pestering-well, in my book it wasn't). I know I was annoying him with all of these questions ("Did you talk to him yet?" or "Has he said anything about me?"), but my knowing whether or not Grant found me attractive was more important than how much I was getting on his nerves (which was a lot).

Dom was right. I do have it bad.

Fuck.

And 'fuck' was right. The next few days were really going to fuck with my emotions. I still didn't know if Dom spoke with Grant yet, and if he did, then Dom better have a good explanation for keeping me in the dark for so long. He kept ignoring me every time I brought up his talk with Grant. I was getting annoyed and starting to feel this sort of dread building up in the pit of my stomach

What if Dom was telling Grant more than he was supposed to?

What if Dom hadn't talked to him yet?

What if he already talked to him and was only avoiding me because he didn't want to break the bad news?

Fuck, what if there was bad ne-

Okay, okay. Deep breaths, Riker. These 'what ifs' are really fucking you over, aren't they?

I just needed an answer from Dom soon, or else I'd explode; and the thought of my guts spewing all over the place made me shudder. That was definitely not a pretty image in my mind.

After a week, I finally got an answer to my incessant questions. Fingers crossed that it was the good answer that I was hoping for.

"Okay, what's the deal? What did he say?"

Dom looked nervous. That was a bad sign, wasn't it?

"Um...well, he said you were...nice."

Nice? Nice. That's it? That's what I've been waiting for the past month or so: a guy I liked telling me that I was fucking nice. What the fu-

"But before you say anything, he also said that he'd like to get to know you more. He didn't like how you missed out the first time we hung out, and uh...he also said one other thing..." the other Warbler bit his lip, rubbing his arm. His nervousness was making me really anxious.

"What? What?! What other thing?" I asked, refraining myself from grabbing Dom by the shoulders and throttling him a little bit. I clenched my hands into tight fists as I stared him down with a piercing stare.

"I'm not supposed to tell you!"

"Why did you even tell me there was another thing if you weren't going to tell me? Dude!" I was getting annoyed. Why couldn't he just fucking tell me? I smacked him in the arm, physically expressing my annoyance.

"You'll find out sooner or later, and OW! What the hell, Riker?!" Dom was frowning, clearly mad at me, but I was too annoyed and mad at him to actually care. He sighed angrily, giving me a hard glare. "Okay, I'd tell you what he told me, but I'd rather have him tell you himself."

That got me stumped. It seemed all of my anger had vanished into thin air. I was still annoyed somewhat, but I knew I had to suck it up and put on my big boy pants if I wanted to know what Grant said to Dom. It could take days, or even months. But I think with enough reassurance, I can finally find that confidence I was lacking ever since I met Grant. I was really hoping this confidence boost would come in a matter of days, but days became weeks, and eventually, it was the beginning of November; my birthday month. Yippee.

I was only turning twenty, and there really wasn't anything exciting about being twenty, except that I was one year away from drinking alcohol legally. Twenty, in my eyes, was just a random age in between the ages that really did matter.

Baby, I Think I've Lost My MindOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora