Twenty One

Heather was gone by the time you left for college. Or, at the very least, the talking took a heavy hit, because when I saw you the night before you left, you didn't say anything at all.

Tara wasn't there, even though she was supposed to be. You and I spent the night in your bedroom, watching old silent films and drinking vodka. I don't remember what your parents said.

I remember you watching me throughout the movies. I remember you picking me up when I started to get dizzy and tired, and I remember you looking down at me when you laid me on your bed.

You stared into my eyes, looking back and forth with this almost concerned look on your face. I wanted so badly to kiss you. I wanted so badly to kiss you and finally take what was mine. Heather was, at that point, in my mind, completely out of the picture. If she still had been in, I figured she would have been there.

Alex, you said in a whisper, and licked your lips. What are we doing?

I wanted to have something good to tell you back to that, something that would finally make all of this go away, all this awkwardness and this stumbling to finally… Go away. I couldn't think of anything, and the lights flashing off your ceiling from the TV and the way they flickered in your eyes…

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and told you I was going to throw up.

I didn't just ruin your pillow. I ruined what I knew was my last chance at an Us.


My prewritten is dwindlinggggg omg