The Softballer *Discontinued*

Chapter 13

Chapter 13
Edited

"H-he is nobody, babe," I stutter. Ugh, why did I stutter.

"Yeah, well he didn't look like nothing! Why did you give him your number? Do you like him more than me?" He says, going from a yell to whisper.

"Uhh, uhm, uhh no. No," I try to assure. But the look on his face makes it clear that he wasn't, though.

"No, no. You do. Bye, Samantha. Have that guy give you a ride," he spits. I stare at him, unable to form words. Why? Why is this happening to me?

"We're done," he says calmly and walks off.

And now, I don't have a boyfriend or a ride!

You can always ask 'yum' or as you call him, Jesse.

No, I can't. My feelings towards that guy made me loose the best guy I could know. Bryson.

I love Bryson. I know I do. It's just my feelings for this guy is unexplainable.

I see a familiar six foot figure making his way towards me. "So, do you have a boyfriend?"

He just asked me that.

"Uhh, uhm, I don't think so. What about you?" I ask, trying to sound calm.

"What do you mean 'you don't think so'? And, by the way, yes I am single."

"We-well, uhm, I'm not sure. I think we just broke up. But I don't know," I stare at him, dumbfounded. Why did I tell him that?

Because it's the truth.

Ugh, I know. But still. Why am I arguing with myself?

"Oh, well, I'm sorry 'bout that," he mumbles.

"It's fine," I say, but only above a whisper.

But it's not. Because I still love him. Yet I think I'm not as in love with him like I was when we first got together. Sometimes love tricks you. You might think you love the person as a soul mate, a lover, the person you want to be with for the rest of you life, but in reality, you only love the person like a brother, a best friend. What I'm trying to say is-love is complicated.

But this. This I feel with Jesse. It's unexplainable. It's great, but unexplainable.

I stare at him for a second. And then his lips. His pink, full lips. And then back at him. He is really cute. Hot. Gorgeous.

He catches me staring, and I look away. Blushing. Of course.

"Don't look away. Your blush is cute," he says, moving my head to face him. "You, in general, are cute."

He isn't helping my blush. Matter of fact, he's making it worse. Damn him. Damn him and his sexiness.

"Thank you for calling me sexy," he smirks. Gosh, his smirk is even cuter.

"Please stop looking at me like that and say something," his smirk grows.

"Bye," I say, turning on my heel and walking away fast.

Crap. I don't have a ride. I walk back over to him and grab his arm. "Hi."

"What are you doing?" He gives me a puzzled look.

"Well, you are going to take me home," I say, pulling him out the door.

"But my hour wasn't finished! I still have two minutes left!" He whines. Ugh, what's up with this guy. Immature.

"Please," I say, giving my best puppy eyes.

"Fine," he groans, getting into his truck. "But only if you kiss me."

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