The S.O.L.O.ists

Chapter 39

Kenton's Point Of View

D*mn it.

I did it.  I finally managed to officially drive Annica away for good! 

I crack my knuckles while I pace the floor of the guestroom, obsessively licking my teeth over and over until I think I may actually cut my tongue.  What the f*cking h*ll did I do wrong? 

Was I acting too weird?  Of course.

Was I wearing my retainer?  Yup!

Was I making too much physical contact?  Obviously!

Was I too forward?  That's it!

I drive my pointer fingers deep into my temples so much that I feel like I'm puncturing a hole into my skull.  "Can this possibly get any worse?"  I ask myself and the negative side of me shrieks boisterously. 

Sure it can.  You're a miracle worker when it comes to screwing things up!

But my positive side tries to cheer me up.

It can't be that bad.  It says meekly.  Annica's not the judgemental type.  Remember?  She admitted that herself that night in the hallway.

Negative: I doubt it.

Positive: You doubt absolutely everything! 

Negative: Well doubting is WAY more realistic than being some optimistic goody-two-shoes!

Positive: Hold it!  We are not going to go down this road again!

"Guys!" I yell and both of them stop. 

What?! My pessimistic side shouts.  I'm listening. My optimistic side says calmly. 

"Let me figure this out by myself, please."  I say quietly and politely and the voices stop. Thank goodness!

I fall back onto the bed and drag my hands down my face in frustration.  Why suddenly out of all girls, Annica has to make me want her so badly that it literally, physically hurts just to think that I messed up my chances with her.

I wonder why this never happened with Rita.  But I still know that it was just some juvenile, infatuation.  Though, isn't this the same thing?

"No, no it's not," I answer my own question somberly.  But if it's no, than what is it? 

I close my eyes and take 3 steady breaths to try to calm my nerves.  1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . .

"Ugh, this isn't working!"  I shout into the deep nothingness, impatiently.  Frustration is one of the quickest emotions to experience and lately it's been hitting me hard in the face like d*mn blasted missiles! 

"Why is this even happening?"  I flip onto my stomach and mutter into the sheets.  I feel my rather curly, feminine, lengthy lashes brush against the soft fabric of the comforter, uncomfortably but I leave my face there anyways. 

"AAAAAAHH!" I yell into the mattress, heatedly.  The cry of exasperation is decently long and meaningful until I can't breathe anymore.  I gasp for air as I abruptly lift up my head, resting my chin on the mattress.  My vision of the large window across from me is distorted due to the tears that are beginning to sting my eyes and I dig the heels of my hands into them to make them stop. 

I mumble a hardy swear word as I rake a hand through my hair, grasping the course tuffs and tugging at them. I want this girl so badly that it's driving me absolutely mad!  I thought she had once felt the same when she kissed me.  But now that I think of it, the gesture seemed more maternal than anything else.