So I'm sitting at a table, a round one for those who are counting, and I'm trying to talk to her but I don't want to force anything so I'm basically just writing this and listening to City and Colour and it's cool, it's all right. Okay, so I'm lying but get over it I am an unreliable narrator and what are you doing even still reading this don't you have homework or something? Jeez.
Anyway—thanks for interrupting—at any rate, so I'm here, playing it waaaaay cool. Almost too cool in fact. Probably sitting here ice cold, so cool I'm being. And so this guy she knows I guess—could be her boyfriend, how much would that suck?—comes and sits down and is talking to her about like Econ homework or something but I'm not listening really, I have my headphones in, but I really hope beyond hope that she's not interested in this guy. Of all the guys in the world, she had to pick this one. Sadness.
But I'm over it. She's looking outside out of the window, into the distance, not really paying attention to this dude which is fine by me I mean this totally helps my cause. But oh no! She just handed him some of her homework. This delicate cycle of emotion wreaks havoc in my dime-size heart. It can't take anymore of this silly wishy-washy behavior!
I really hope I don't have any boogers hanging out of my schnoz. GOOD LORD DO I HAVE ANY BOOGERS HANGING OUT OF MY NOSE!?!?! I ask her how to spell ‘schnoz' and we make jokes about me not being studious and how I'm the class clown and how I'm just so darn funny. Because—let's face it—I am.
Why am I even stressing this? I have all semester. And she thinks I'm hilarious so I've got one foot in the door already.
I'll see her in class.