secret admirer. 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

18💌 Isabella.

She was breathtaking when she walked in. The soft pink dress wrapped around her body, the lacy white gloves going up to her elbow and the black Mary Jane heels showing off the curves of her legs. 

She was breathtaking. 

She was beautiful.

And then there was him. 

Chris. 

He was stuck to her side, his hands always on her hips. Can he back off? Can't he see he's making her uncomfortable?

Is that the guy Isabella likes?

I don't like him.

Even before the party they've been awfully close. They'd always talk together in the hallways. 

Who even is he? He can't be the guy she likes. She's too good for him. 

My jaw tightens so I force my eyes from the sight. Bianca has been at my side the whole party. She's been saying a lot of stuff but I haven't really been listening.

My eyes flick back to Isabella. Not once has she looked at me. I hold in the lump that forms in my throat from the realization. 

She staggers a bit, clutching her mouth and leaving, Chris following behind her. Where are they going? What are they gonna do...? I get ready to get up but am held back down by Bianca's hands — right. She's here too. 

I look over to Josh, signaling with my eyes that I need to get away. He seems to catch on as he gives me a thumbs up. 

I try to get up again, this time succeeding and before Bianca can pull me down Josh takes my seat and wraps his arm around Bianca's shoulders, pulling her away. 

I mutter out a quiet, "Gonna go get a drink. I'll be back soon." I use the opportunity to get away. I hear Josh from a distance call out, "Take your time!"

I get out to the hallway, the corners dark. From out here only the distant moonlight is lighting up the place, and the lights from the other rooms, but only a small amount.

Where did she go? Where is she?

Wait, why am I even doing this? Is it just because she's a friend? Yeah that's it. Any person would worry for a friend, right?

Or, is it more than that?

I think back to the last time we hung out. Back to when things were normal.

"Well I... I like," I struggle to get my words out, "dinosaurs."

She stares at me. Blindly. And then laughs. A sound that rings in my ears and makes me forget what I was even embarrassed about. "Dinosaurs?" she asks. "I certainly wasn't expecting that, don't think I've heard you ever mention an interest in them before."

"It's not that strange..." I mutter, not being able to look at her.

"It's not. Just unexpected." She gives me a smile. One that draws my breath away. "Well, I'm happy you told me."

I grew up like any other kid. In a normal household with normal parents. 

My parents moved from the Philippines to here, they'd often complain about how different it was. How the whites were annoying. But they also wanted to give me a bright future so they stayed. 

My parents didn't like each other much. But they didn't hate each other either. T

hey'd argue sometimes, scream and shout, in the same way every other parent would. I'd hear stories from my classmates, how the split always started with simple arguments, then shouting, and then divorce. 

The kids would come to school crying, looking exhausted, and wail over how it was their fault their parents split. How they made it more difficult for their parents.

That stuck with me.

I learned then that I had to be simple, easy and nice to manage. I had to be likable. Make sure to not become extra baggage for my parents. I'd be golden — the perfect child. One who never complains. And soon, the shouting stopped.

Eventually it transferred over to other people, I'd catch myself acting in a way I knew others would want me to, in a way that was easy to digest. I had a natural talent for it. 

I understood people. I got along with people. 

Yet I started to dislike people. It was such a hassle, always thinking about them first. Being who they wanted me to be.

Once Mother told me that I had a great affinity for getting close to people, so I must take advantage of it.

At some point I realized I was never me. Just what other people wanted me to be. The perfect, easy going Noah.

I'd tried it with Isabella too, but it didn't seem to work on her. She always kept her distance, it was hard for me to figure her out. 

I'd dealt with her type before, but usually they'd have some sense of animosity towards me. But she didn't have that. I couldn't sense it. 

So I decided to stay neutral towards her, yet somehow that changed.

The girl in the note and Isabella. They're both the only people I've ever been able to show myself to. And neither pushed me away.

Me liking dinosaurs, such a random uncool thing. 

I've always had an interest in them. Their anatomy, their attributes and the time they're from. They're such interesting, unique creatures, something I want to figure out more. 

It wasn't something I thought anyone would care for or even accept. It was too personal. Too random. Too real. 

Yet she did. 

She laughed, she looked me in the eyes and told me... that she was glad I told her.

Oh.

I like her.

I like Isabella.