story continued... **still under MAJOR construction**
...I felt my face boil. I could tell people were giving me funny looks. I wouldn't blame them--I probably looked like I spent a little too much time in the sun. I didn't care though. All I wanted to do was to get out of there, and I didn't care who I had to mow down in the process. After I managed to gather all of my belongings into my backpack, I got home and hopped online so HE wouldn't have to call me and tell me what a loser I am.
Now I suppose you're dying to hear what happened later. I could tell you that he gave me roses the next day and told me I was the most beautiful girl he's met in his life, followed by a "I was so glad you asked... of course I'll go with you!" I could tell you we went to Turnabout and danced until our feet fell off and have been dating ever since and plan on getting married after we graduate from college and live in a house in a pleasant, tree-lined neighborhood (complete with white picket fence) and have 2 kids, one that was ours, and one that was adopted from some unheard of 3rd world country. But then I'd be lying. The actual truth of it started the next day.
It's teh day after and I feel like it's the beginning of the end. I'm sitting with four of my friends in front of my locker. It's 7:15, right around the time HE usually takes his scheduled walk past my locker. I felt no better than I had the previous day, except now a wave of nausea was crashing down upon my head and bringing me down into the undertow of rejection. I knew exactly what would happen. He'd spit in my hair, tell me I'm hideous and that he never watned to be my friend again. What actually happened was much worse. My friend spotted him at the end of the hallway first. I looked over and felt like I was slowly clinking to the top of a rollercoaster without a seatbelt on. I quickly stared at the floor and my friend tortured me by repeating "He's coming! He's coming!! My God he's coming!!" He passed by my locker a few dozen times... but that's it. He didn't talk to me until after Turnabout, never gave me an answer, and could barely look me in the eyes for a long time. That's it. End of story.
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I know it says end of story but it ain't finished yet. I still have to get a conclusino in. lol. I might cut out the paragraph about the adopted kid from a 3rd world country buuuut yup. :)
Now I suppose you're dying to hear what happened later. I could tell you that he gave me roses the next day and told me I was the most beautiful girl he's met in his life, followed by a "I was so glad you asked... of course I'll go with you!" I could tell you we went to Turnabout and danced until our feet fell off and have been dating ever since and plan on getting married after we graduate from college and live in a house in a pleasant, tree-lined neighborhood (complete with white picket fence) and have 2 kids, one that was ours, and one that was adopted from some unheard of 3rd world country. But then I'd be lying. The actual truth of it started the next day.
It's teh day after and I feel like it's the beginning of the end. I'm sitting with four of my friends in front of my locker. It's 7:15, right around the time HE usually takes his scheduled walk past my locker. I felt no better than I had the previous day, except now a wave of nausea was crashing down upon my head and bringing me down into the undertow of rejection. I knew exactly what would happen. He'd spit in my hair, tell me I'm hideous and that he never watned to be my friend again. What actually happened was much worse. My friend spotted him at the end of the hallway first. I looked over and felt like I was slowly clinking to the top of a rollercoaster without a seatbelt on. I quickly stared at the floor and my friend tortured me by repeating "He's coming! He's coming!! My God he's coming!!" He passed by my locker a few dozen times... but that's it. He didn't talk to me until after Turnabout, never gave me an answer, and could barely look me in the eyes for a long time. That's it. End of story.
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I know it says end of story but it ain't finished yet. I still have to get a conclusino in. lol. I might cut out the paragraph about the adopted kid from a 3rd world country buuuut yup. :)