I have a problem.

A really big problem.

Like huge.

I have an obsession with guy's boxers.

And not just any guy. My best friend's ex boyfriend. Which means that under no circumstance am I to crush on, date, or have any type of relationship besides the "hi" kind.

Only the thing is, he's my next door neighbor. And our windows are right smack directly across from each other.

Yeah, and he's not big on drawing his curtains closed when he dresses or undresses.

It really, really doesn't help that he's drop dead gorgeous either. Like I'm talking the godly kind. He has the most amazing eyes, they're a dark blue and they sparkle. I'm completely serious. When the sun hits them in the morning, they just start to sparkle.

He'd probably kill me if he knew I was describing his eyes as sparkling. He'd say that too much of a "girly" word. Bla.

He has dark brown hair that curls just below his ears, however he has bangs from having longish hair so his hair is constantly in his eyes and it drives me mad. MAD I tell you.

It's like seeing an ice cream truck on a really hot day and seeing it lights up your day. But then a tractor-trailer parks in front of it and you can't see it anymore, and then you remember that you're diabetic and can't have that wonderful ice cream.

It's like that because I see his eyes, then his hair goes in front of it, and I want to make it go away but I can't because I can't touch him. Grrrr.

Anyway, he's about 6'2 and he's really tan, but that may be because he's more than half Native American.

So the first time I got to see his boxers was about a year and a half ago. This was after him and Marie (my best friend) had broken up by the way.

Before that he always changed in his bathroom, don't ask me why he stopped.

But anywho, it was a really hot day in the summer and I was on my bed reading Carl Hiaasen's "Skin Tight" and I happened to look out my window at the same time he walked into his bedroom and began taking off his shirt.

Look, I'm a girl ok? So I didn't exactly run screaming in the other direction or hide under my bed. Because this boy is fine with a capital F.

So then he took off his pants. And I saw his boxers.

They were purple with Scooby Doo on them.

Now back then I loved Scooby Doo even though nobody else in high school would admit to liking it, I was very outgoing in my support of Scooby Doo. I had a Scooby backpack, a Scooby lunch box, Scooby binders, pencils, pens… you name it I had it.

So seeing him with Scooby Doo boxers caught my attention. And my favorite color was purple.

That started the fixation.

So the next day I saw he was wearing Scooby Doo boxers again, but these had "Scooby Dooby Doo" saying on them.

Let's just say I found out that he has a lot of Scooby Doo boxers.

Now back to the present.

French class.

Most horrific subject in the world.

Seriously.

Anyway, I absent mindedly began to draw Tweety bird on my note book.

Which happens to be my new favorite cartoon.

And what was on his boxers today…

So that took up most of French class.

As the bell rang and everyone began to leave, a hand picked up the drawing of Tweety bird.

I raised my eyes to see dark blue ones looking at me.

"This is good. You draw a lot?"

I blushed. "Maybe."

Holy shit, I can't believe I did that. That was like the most major flirt word in the whole wide world.

At least according to Marie.

He smiled and walked away.

Bad girl. You are NOT allowed to flirt with him.

…

This happened for an entire two weeks.

You'd think I would learn to stop drawing the things on his boxers but nooo. I'm stupid.

Everytime he sees me drawing and looks at the picture.

He's probably getting just a little bit curious to how I keep drawing the things on his boxers.

Who am I kidding? He probably thinks I'm some crazy stalker or something.

But of course I'm not.

I'm just the stalker without the word stalk in it.

So I'm an –er.

Cool.

…

Ok that's odd.

His boxers have hearts on them. And some words that I can't make out.

Hmm.

Binoculars.

Wonderful. Bless my dad the avid bird watcher.

Ok now what do them boxers have to say.

"Will You Go Out With Me?"

Those are weird boxers.

They look handmade.

Umm…

Crap he just turned around.

Shit he's looking right at me.

Fuck fuck fuck, oh wait I'm not supposed to say that, duck duck duck duck duck duck duck duck DUCK!!

Why is he grinning?

Why is he pointing to his boxers?

Ring Ring Ring.

Telephone.

I scrambled off the bed and grabbed the phone.

Guess who it was.

Him.

Actually I'm kidding.

It was Marie.

"So?"

"Huh?"

"What did you say?"

"Say to what?"

"HIS BOXERS YOU IDIOT!!!"

"What?"

"…umm, has he called you yet?"

"He's going to call me?"

BEEP

"…Hey Marie?"

"YES?"

"There's another call coming in."

"ANSWER IT NOW"

"WHY?"

"NOW!!!!!!!!!!"

Glup.

I pressed the talk button.

"Hello… Jane's Pizza Parlor how may I help you?"

"Hi."

"Well?"

"I'd like to place an order for pickup."

"…Ok…"

"I'd like one girl who stares at my boxers' sandwich and a Yes on the side."

"…Sure…"

"Really?"

"Wait what?"

"Look out your window."

I walked over to the window.

He was leaning against his windowsill, with his window open.

He waved.

I stared at him.

"So will you go out with me?" he called out.

"Why?"

"Because I think I love you."

"What?"

"Why do you think Marie and I broke up?"

"Cause she cheated on you?"

"No, well yes but no."

"Huh?"

"We broke up because she knew I liked you."

"Oh, Really?"

"Yup."

"So what's your answer?"

"YES."

He jumped out of his window.

And landed in a bush.

Then calmly got up, brushed himself off, and walked over to my window.

"Rapunzel Rapunzel let down your long hair." He called up to me.

I threw a Halloween wig out the window.

He shook his head and climbed up the tree by my window.

There was only one problem.

The branch didn't come close enough to my window.

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

And smirked.

"NO"

Then he jumped through my window, tackling me and landing both of us on the bed.

… "I have to admit, that was pretty skilled." I told him.

"Yeah, I know, and it got me right where I wanted."

"On top of me?"

"Yup."

I smiled.

He kissed me.

I stopped smiling and kissed him back.

Let's just say that went on for awhile.

"You wanna know something?"

I looked at him.

"Sure."

"Remember after Marie and I broke up, how I started wearing all those Scooby boxers?"

"Yeah?"

"And stopped changing in the bathroom?"

"Yes?"

"That's because I wanted you to see my boxers."

I gaped at him.

"Wanna know something else?"

"Maybe."

"Wanna know how I always knew what your favorite things were?"

"Yes."

He kissed me again.

"I'm obsessed with your underwear."