wanna be yours ; kagehina

twelve

"and- and then he just... he just walked away! after all that! agh!"

the look eating up hitoka's face was making me feel so very stupid, but in all honesty, there was no one else i could tell.

"he asked you about your favorite band, found out your weird crush on alex turner, and then implied he should be more like alex turner because you like alex turner."

"yes."

"you're so fucking dumb."

she was laughing like a maniac, her disposition incredibly dismantling my comfort; i confided in her because i thought she would care, but clearly, she thinks i'm overreacting. how wonderful.

"i don't appreciate you laughing! i'm seriously bothered by this!"

"tobio, are you too stupid to see he likes you?"

"likes me? what, with how he teases me and stares at me like i'm a monster? yeah, sure, match made in heaven! come on, hitoka, you've gotta be kidding me."

"you're the one who's kidding! so dramatic! dude, he flat out hit on you. he likes you. i can see it, everyone can see it, it's blatantly obvious."

"he doesn't even know me."

"that has nothing to do with it! you're hot, he sees it, he likes it! that's how it works!"

i don't like being wrong... but she's right.
not about the hot thing- about how crushes work.

"no. nope. no way. it's not true."

"convince yourself all you want, tobio, but when that boy shows up wearing something black or with a new haircut or something you better strap in, because he's trying to impress you."

it can't be that. it just can't. he was just picking on me, he was making fun of me, he was getting me all worked up so he can pop the bubble at a later date- it's the only explanation.
he's taunting me.
jesus, i hate this! i hate how he uses me. first he wants to be friends, then he changes his whole demeanor from that idiotic sugar-high personality to this weird, cocky, smart-ass attitude, and now he's hitting on me as a joke? no way. i won't... i can't let it happen.
no matter how enticing his voice sounds from across the lunch table, i will not fall for his tricks.
i don't care if his hoodies hang off his shoulders because he's small enough to drown in a medium.
it won't bother me how he sneaks glaces my way in the middle of english class.
it doesn't matter if when he messes with his curls my heart feels like it's burning, or when he bites his lip out of habit i feel my legs tense up.
not even when he sends me a crooked smile, just for kicks, will i let him get to me.

i don't care what hitoka says.

no way in hell will i fall for his rouse.