How do I call you a liar, now that I realize that you never did call me pretty and I was only cute to you like a stray cat?
Christiana 💖 Mathews
Mathews <3
Christiana & Mathews
I found at least four to five important pages to write all of this on.
Four pages, I was sure Reece would open. I wrote all of this with pencil, of course, but I still knew they would catch Reece's eyes. I hated writing anything in my books, so the book had nothing extra other than all of this.
A small, tiny, part of me felt guilty, but I suppressed all the guilt. It was actually kind of fun too. Messing around with him was like extra Christmas gifts.
I made sure to hand him the book.
Of course, I was not done with him about it just then.
The next day, I made a scene. Like a legit freaking scene (which only had him as an audience).
I ran up to his place, asked him to take out the book, took an eraser, and discreetly erased everything.
Of course, by discreetly, I mean in a way that he could see what was written, but it also looked like I was trying to hide it from him.
Then I gave him the book back.
He glared hard at me. I tried to smile normally, I really tried, but all I could muster was a weak fragile lopsided smile. Nothing normal.
But I knew he wouldn't notice. He had better things to worry about, of course.
He was Reece; I would never underestimate Reece, but I would also never underestimate jealousy.
That evening, I called Reece. It was well past eight, but I knew he would be free. His Friday nights consisted of watching football games with his dad or his sister.
I knew for a fact that his parents had to attend an important event, cause that was where my parents were.
And I knew for a fact that his sister wouldn't mind giving us some privacy.
I also knew for a fact that Reece would love to have the conversation I had in my mind.
And I had always known how much of a crazy stalker I was.
Reece picked up in the second ring.
"Hi!" I greeted in that excessively cheerful voice of mine.
"What happened?" he asked. His voice sounded bored.
If you're bored, I'll make it interesting for you! I thought.
"I missed you!" I spoke in that same high-pitched voice, in a little whiny way, and then started giggling. None of that was planned, and I felt like I was high.
There was a pause on his end before he asked, "What?"
"I missed you!" I repeated the same way.
"Are you high?"
"Nope!" I maintained that voice.
"I am busy, okay?"
"It's Friday night, what are you doing?"
"You know, important stuff; watching football, eating popcorn."
"I am sure you can spare a while for your bestie!"
YOU ARE READING
The Fourth Boy
Romance"A thanks to all my tears Who were always there in my darkest times when I was alone." This book is not about my pathetic pitied self. Perhaps that's all they'll ever see me as, perhaps they'll always assume that I was the victim. Perhaps this will...
