A Love Story

I don’t get this sensation that I’m feeling. My body trembling every time our eyes meet and when he opens his mouth to speak. I can’t believe it’s happening like this. We’ve been friends since birth you could say. So what if everyone keeps saying, “It’s gonna happen sooner or later.” This isn’t suppose to happen.

 My misbehaving eyes follow him as he enters the classroom and takes his rightful place next to me. No! Not rightful! What am I thinking? We’re only friends and plus he doesn’t like me like that…I know he doesn’t.

“Hey,” he greets me with his smile but it’s no smile no more to me. It’s like your favorite box of candy given to you to make your day, to satisfy your feelings and make you desire more.

“Hey,” I barely replied avoiding eye contact.

The worse thing happens, although it used to be a wonderful thing, the teacher left out the class to talk with a staff in the hallway. Now he’s going to want to talk.

“Guess what?” he said although in my head it echoed three times and my heart pumped so quickly it was like me being in a race for power.

“What,” I replied half groaning with no craving to talk.

“I heard there’s this new restaurant slash club downtown,” he began every word sticking to the side of my mind, “my ma thinkin’ about takin’ me down there to check it out,”

There was this awkward silence but I realized it was only me because he was finish talking. His brown comical eyes squinted at me in question. My pulse was speeding faster in that race for power for I suddenly saw I was starring with this smirk on my face.

Turning quickly away I said, “Oh, really,” although that was a lame reply but I had nothing really to say.

With an unsure type of tone he replied, “Yeeeah…So, well, my ma wanted to take Amber but she has a dance class rehearsal. So it’ll be just me and her,”

What did he say? I completely blocked him out accidentally because I kept replaying my stupid moment of falling into that death trap of love that one thing you do not do…the stare.

So I just said, “Oh,” again.

The teacher returned carrying a stack of paper. Homeroom class was over and math began. We had to do a worksheet on linear equations. My crowded mind kept replaying that moment and his face and his warm aroma that floated towards me after every one of his movements. My stomach churned, I was going to be sick. I can’t like him! He is my closets friend in the world. The only friend I have. It’s not right.

We were doing our work or let’s just say everyone else was doing their work. My eyes uncontrollably kept glancing at him to the side. He was working, hard. He loves math. I can’t stand the subject. I couldn’t concentrate for nothing, though. Finally, I was able to complete two of the problems although I had twenty minutes to do all six, but I couldn’t help it.

Of course my crazy eyes doing the will of my hormonal drunken loved brain took a quick glance at him again but this time I thought my world was at an end. He was leaning on his right arm, only because he’s left handed, but his eyes weren’t on his paper, they were on me. It was so awkward because we startled and then laughed and I somewhat gave a giggle. Why was he starring? Maybe his curiousness of my glancing sensation made him want to make sure he was correct.

At this time everyone was talking which really meant, we’re done.

“Do you need help Honey Snack?”

My heart did that skip again, that unusual skip. And I can hear the blood rushing to my head. I was about to ask why he called me that when I remembered that had always been my nickname. I hesitated. I wanted less talking as possible but he was my friend I couldn’t give him the shoulder and the side of my head.

“No,” I quickly said then I expected.

After a small awkward pause he started talking again but I could barely hear him over my obsessed consciousness and my shaking hands. When is this class over? Time never wants to be your friend in bad situations. Finally, the bell rung and with a quick goodbye I went to my next class. After that slow exhilarating class I only saw him once more and that was at lunch. That’s high school for you. I could barely eat any and worse think throughout the day. This is becoming too much to bare. With the utmost urge and desire to just tell him about this stupid feeling I feel about him I just tried avoiding him.

Now this new thing that has developed in me since my feelings for my…closest friend which isn’t acceptable I became to observe more things about him then I would as a friend. Well, his attire today was a brownish polo shirt revealing his growing muscular arms and blue baggy jeans that I knew contained… I shouldn’t even be thinking about this about him. Well, I’m human deal with it, but his style of dress was influenced by me because I love polo shirts and baggy jeans which I’ve noticed he wears more often now….weird. He’s always there to impress another girl or me… sometimes other girls, I think. His curly black hair covered half his light-skinned forehead which was an influence by me. Oh, he is a delicious caramel wafer. My stomach is growling now but it’s only because I didn’t eat at lunch, but he kept talking and starring here and there. Hopefully he doesn’t feel the same about me or maybe I just had food on my mouth or something. I want us to remain friends and hug without awkwardness or hesitation. Diana, a girl I know, tells me that having a close friend as a boyfriend is much amusing than some random boy. I knew she was right.


-written by LeQuita C. Harrison, 18 find also in Passion of Poetry

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