For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, and for these two, their lives have been planned down to a science.
For Wylan Olson, being yourself can be very stressful. Since she was young, her emotions have always been backwards. The e...
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What was I doing? Was I crazier than I thought I was?
Maybe, maybe I shouldn't have started avoiding him either. He had triggered all these mixed emotions inside me, and he was driving me insane. How could I like someone that it felt like I barely knew.
"What's your favorite color?" I asked him, turning off the radio as I stared in the direction of the road.
"Green," he responded. "And you?"
"The same color that I always have my rubber bands." I was opening and closing my mouth in a rhythmic way, trying to test them.
"Purple?" he asked, and I stopped abruptly once the light changed.
"Yes, weirdo stalker boy, my favorite color is purple," I admitted as he laughed. I probably had no emotion in my expression.
"Weirdo stalker boy, I must say that's a new one, Sinead." I threw a pen cap at him. "Were you chewing on this?" he asked and I shook my head.
"No, my dog probably did though."
"How do you pronounce your middle name?" I asked as we pulled up to the local art museum.
"Amir, why are we here?" he asked, nodding to the art museum.
"That rhymes!" I squealed. "Oh, sorry, I basically live in this museum, and I thought we should get to know each other. It might help you understand some things about me," I explained.
Once we were inside, I nodded at the woman behind the desk and looked to the stairs. "Um, there's an elevator right there in the corner, you don't really intend to-" he began protesting as I put a finger to his lip.
"We can't have fun if you're going to whine the whole time. Now come on, maybe we'll find an answer in the stairs." I put my finger from his lips and tugged him along.
We reached the first step, and memories flooded my mind. I had climbed these stairs to a ballet class, I'd gone down that atrium to reach the chorus classes they held for young singers.
"This was my sanctuary," I murmured as he looked around. The steps were all wooden and polished along with the walls. "We fought all the time freshman year."
"You hated me," he stated flatly.
I turned to him on the stairs, and he almost ran into me. No, I didn't hate you at first. I wanted you to like me. I still want you to like me, maybe. "There's a fine line between annoyance and hatred. You should learn it." I frowned slightly trying to lessen the intensity of it so he wouldn't think I was trying to scold him.
"I know it, Wylan," he said, staring at me.
Just tell him how you felt. How did I feel? Tell him you liked him, but he liked Lorelei. She was prettier. I shrugged, "I didn't hate you. You just annoyed me."
