There was one thing that seemed to keep me smiling no matter how bad my day was: James. The last few days had felt terrible. I felt like crap. My friends were mad at me, my grades sucked my parents were putting way too much hope in me, and to top it all off I was moving.
But James kept me going. Texting him, seeing him, it made everything so much better. I know I would never have the nerve to say that to him personally so I guess this is my way of telling him (even if he never sees this).
With my first crush, Andy, who was one of my closest friends, who actually reminds me of James in a way. he wasn't at fault. Our friends loved to say he and I would end up married because of how we acted. We were always competing or talking. He never denied anything when our friends made fun of us. It gave me hope that he liked me. But then he left our school, and I found out he had liked me. But never said a word.
Then came my ex-best friend, Mike. Mike had been my first friend. But when I met more people I bullied him. Years later I apologized and we connected. It was a long distance thing, in a way because he went to a different school. But then someone told me they had seen him with some girl, who was his girlfriend so that was the end.
But Steven was probably one of the most important. At first I spent my time trying to hook him up with Vanessa, his childhood friend. But slowly I fell for him. And it seemed he was feeling the same. But after he graduated from my middle school, he told everyone that he had only tried to make the year interesting. He had only really liked Vanessa. He had played with me like a rag doll.
After that came Prem and Raj, who mended me in a way.
But I truly broke a few months before I started high school.
Chris Rodriguez. That asshole. He and I had hit it off from the beginning. He liked me, despite the age difference. I didn't act 13. I was mature for my age. He shouldn't have taken advantage of my innocence, though. He shouldn't have persuaded me into kissing him. He stole something that didn't belong to him. And I pray for the day someone wipes his memory clean from my mind, the day someone truly gives my first kiss. Not steal, not persuade. But someone I truly want to kiss.
And in recent days there was only person. James Marquez. That sexy boy. My boyfriend. My crush. My love. He seemed to occupy my mind, my soul. We already were emotionally connected, we had been since we became friends. But that physical contact was just lacking, and it was driving me crazy. All I wanted was a simple hug, a kiss. But I always seemed to miss the opportunity or chicken out. It was starting to get on my nerves. It was easy for me to flirt, to touch any guy. But how could I not be able to do it to James? Why was I so damn afraid of him?
It never unnerved me to throw myself at the sophomores just for fun. It wasn't hard to mess with the freshmen to see if they'd blush. I fought with guys all the time. I spent more time with them than girls. So why one earth couldn't I just walk up and hug James?
Deep down, I knew the answer. I was terrified that this was not real. That he was messing with me, or I was dreaming. Too often did I hope and get heartbroken. To finally have someone like me back, someone who I loved, it was so precious to me that I didn't want to mess it up. I wanted him by my side, I wanted him to be the one there for me. I wanted him to protect me. I wanted him to get jealous. I wanted him to be the one to approach me. I didn't want to lose him.
He meant too much to me. So much that I knew when he left I'd spend days crying, missing him, hoping he could stay. Praying days and nights. But God was gracious enough to give me a few months with him, at least that much. That was more than I could ever ask for. But I wanted to hold on and just never let go.
I guess that's why I didn't want much physical contact yet. I'd get so drawn in, so addicted to his touch, his voice, that I'd probably hold on and pray to God I didn't have to let go. His voice was already stuck in my brain. And the few times we'd made physical contact replayed in my brain over and over. His warmth, and those damn muscles. Every time he moved you could just see them. He was driving me crazy. Insane. I could only imagine what it would be like to be wrapped up in those arms of his, to be pressed up against those rock-hard abs I'm guessing he had.
Sometimes I borrow his hoodie, ok fine I'm lying. Every day I wear his hoodie. And it's so soft..and huge. But it smells so good, just like James. I think I'm going crazy. I get high of his scent, the mere mention of his name. What's wrong with me?!