Oh boy you drive me crazy
Bitch you make me hurl

You make me smile a lot. You're really gross and immature and silly, and you make me smile a lot. You do. There's supposed to be nothing wrong with that, and yet

there is.

I mean, really.

Could you leave me alone for one second to regain my composure and stop giggling like a girl in love?

Because that's exactly what I don't want to be.


Laura is running a little to catch up to you as we head to math. She murmurs something, and I linger a little behind so that she can do exactly what she confirmed she would do.

She's asking you to the mall on Friday after school.

I think she's forgotten we don't have school on Friday.

I press my lips together and pretend that it doesn't bother me. It truly doesn't. It doesn't it doesn't it doesn't.

It does not.

Later she says that you said that you were pretty busy, maybemaybemaybe, you'll get back to her.

But you never do.

She thinks you're an asshole.

I pretend I haven't done the exact same thing to another boy who asked me out. (I'm secretly a little delighted at our similarity. It's nothing to be proud of, but it links me to you.)


This year we aren't even in the same homeroom. No, you're in another homeroom and I feel separated from you and for a long time, you cease to exist in my world. I move onto another boy and nobody's heard of you dating anybody since the seventh grade when you dated Jenn but we all assume you're just too busy and too cocky.

And then one lunch I'm thirsty as hell and you've got strawberry Milk 2 Go, and it's my favourite (and again I pretend not to be pleased that you like the same things as me) so I prance over to you and ask for some with a big big smile on my face, and you grin back and tell me that I better not chug it, and you give it to me.

And you begin to exist again.

Oh god.


I go into your homeroom because your teacher has the weird little coiling machine and I need to put my group's papers together. You brush past me, making sure to touch my shoulder with your own (much taller now, even though I was an inch taller in the seventh grade) shoulder. I make a face at you, and you make a face back.

And I walk past you in the hallway where you sit with your strawberry Milk 2 Go, and we hold eye contact for a few seconds before I turn my head and hold myself a little straighter and you make a little sound, and I secretly feel a sick pleasure because you're disgruntled and a little confused.

You're still existing.

Please don't.


Because it's exactly what you do, you make me feel all fluttery and I'm forgetting that other boy and remembering you and as soon as I do, you don't look at me again. It's disgruntling, and I feel a little betrayed.

Laura, who has since gotten over you and the incident, is a little appalled when I tell her I've jumped off the Connor train, and back onto the Kyle train. She laughs a little, pats me on the back, and tells me Good luck.

She's right. I need it.


And then months whir around me and speed past me and bump into me and suddenly it's almost a quarter of a year later, and I haven't spoken to you since.

And then you cease to exist again.

And I'm pretty sure that I never existed in your world in the first place.

It makes me a little sick to think of it.

oooh. i'm not working on plastic, sorry
i'm not good at this commitment thing. i cry to think about it. ):):):):
um. yeah. i guess i do give names. they are indeed the real people. damn.

Characters: Laura, Kyle, myself.
Prompts: myself :)