First Obssession

Young and Stupid

   I was twelve when I first held a guys hand in a way that meant anything. I was fourteen when I gave and received my first kiss on the lips. I was sixteen when the world decided to show me how cruel it could be.

   I still remember when I first noticed him... Or at least recognized him as a possibly nice acquaintance. Too be honest, I think it's the first time he noticed me, as well as the second time I wished I could have one of the popular kids as a friend.

He was, at first glance, the cute boy next door type. At second glance, he was the guy you wished you could know, and there'd never be a third glance because by then you ducked your head and walked away so as not to be caught staring.

   Yet, the day after he came up to the small, lonely picnic table I usually sat on and asked something I couldn't even believe at the moment. And still can't believe sometimes.

  Can I sit here?

And I did the dumbest thing a girl can do when asked something simple by a  nice cute guy.

I let out a little smartass comment.

  I'm sure you have the ability to do so, unless there's a problem with your knees or something.

He'd looked at me weirdly for a second, keeping eye contact. I wanted to smack myself on the forehead, but that wouldn't have helped the situation would it have?

Then, miracle of miracles, he let out a little laugh.

   Nope, no problems at all. Guess I should've said may I?

His eyes held a bit of amusement, filled with a little wonder now. And I think I asked, quite seriously;

May I...?

While pointing the eraser end of my pencil at him. My sketchbook lay in my lap, the mischievous puppy on it looking quite plain as it lay there, waiting to be shaded in by my otherwise occupied pencil.

The boy still standing before me should've gone away, like most guys his age might've, or said something rude and then run off. But he didn't, instead, he grinned before looking slightly scolded and holding his hands behind his back.

  May I sit besides you, Mercy?

Smiling now, but only just a little, I gave a small nod with my head, looking down and letting my hair fall like a curtain around two sides of my face. I found myself staring at my black converse hightops, suddenly captivated by the All-Stars insignia on the sides.

There was a tap on my shoulder, and glancing to the side I saw him smiling and seeming quite serious in what he was going to say. I must admit, I worried for a second.

     Hi. Wanna be friends?

A grin broke across my face, I was going to say yes, but when I opened my mouth it seemed another little comment was waiting at the tip of my tongue to be let loose.

     If I don't even know your name yet, his can we be friends?

   He seemed to ponder it seriously, though the way the corner of his mouth was tilting up a bit gave it away. Having reached a conclusion, he turned to me again and offered me his hand to shake.

    My name is Daylen Pierce. What's yours?