MADDI PWNS ALL

I trembled in the seat I picked. Who was I going to get seated with? I’ll tell you one thing. It better not be with him. Anybody else I was fine with. I could even hold up with that athletic guy for the rest of the year but I didn’t want it to be him. If I said anything mean he’d probably crush me into a million pieces or come with an axe when I’m sleeping and stalk me 25/8.

My worst nightmare expected. Usually I had better luck and I’d probably go with the small, scrawny guy which wouldn’t be bad. He’s actually pretty cool. I had to sit beside him, but that loud new girl and that loud wannabe gangster. So in French class this wasn’t entirely bad.

The first year was what I thought was the worst.

In my second French class I realized I was just suddenly attracted to this inconsiderate, rude, annoying person. I was lovestrucken. Not in the kindergarten-crush type. The worst part of it is that I constantly questioned myself, “why? Why him? He’s not even a little bit drool-worthy.” I probably thought he had a crush on me with his constant questions. The stupidest ones ever. “Are you a bad girl?” Out of no where thinking I smoke pot or something by the way I glared terribly. Every single moment of my life I wish I was about 2.7 percent nicer before I realized it.

The second year got way more excessive and tedious.

Maybe he did have a crush on me before but it probably soon wore off when I didn’t get any nicer. I realized I was now in all of his classes and I realized I never did stop _______ him. I’d always like somebody else for a moment but if just for a moment I got to talk to him over the stupidest thing I’d tremble and yep, that other boy fell right out of the picture. They might have re-entered a couple of times but they never stayed permanently like he did. It was an instant feeling of embarrassment whenever I talked to him even if I didn’t even do anything embarrassing.

When summer came, I knew this wasn’t going away.

I saw him on the streets and pretended I didn’t notice him at all but I’d make sure I talked to him. Other then that I always saw his screen name on my computer. I tried to talk to him constantly. I told him everything. No, silly not EVERYTHING. I did tell him all of my deepest secrets and all of my past boyfriends, girlfriends who I’ve liked and everything. The nicest I’ve ever saw him. He accepted it. But I never could tell him that I in ____ with him…I wanted to so many times but I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t slip out no matter what.

The third year was chaos and I couldn’t handle it.

It was all this year. We weren’t in the same classes. We grew further apart yet I clasped for a change to talk to him at least see him. We didn’t hang out with the same people or like the same people for that matter. He’d be playing football or soccer or whatever sport it was that season. I’d be on the other side of the school with my fiends gossiping about whatever happened that week. On the outside I was listening but I’d really be glancing and seeing if I could hear his voice from the other side of the world. I didn’t need my glasses to see him. I knew right away.  In the first two weeks of seeing him again an hour each day I only talked to him twice. Barely once.

Now I’m about to kill my insides.