Eleven-Eleven (ON HOLD)

Hand Holder! (:

Me, Admitting it? Nahh(: not ME(:

   I pulled out two sheets of paper, and scribbled down “Hey” on both sheets in my awful, girly hand writing. Dennis wrote back with a “I actually have to pay attention in this class. I’m failing/: Sorry. Love you though(:” and I could only nod. I had to wonder how he meant that I love you, especially after my little chat with Mckayla. Omar was next, of course.

Hey, can I ask why you looked so frustrated with Mckayla last period?

Well. How to explain, without mentioning his name? Or did it matter? After all, it was just Omar I was talking to. And about. He wouldn’t change his opinion of me if he knew. I don’t think.

  In the middle of all my thoughts, I got a hand tapping my face. A moment later, I realized that I had completely zoned out trying to make up an excuse.

Depends, do I have to be honest?

Well, that would be preferred, but I guess I couldn’t tell the difference between the truth and a lie, cause I don’t know what was going on.

This tempts me to lie, but because you asked so nicely… haha(:

Well, what can I say? Haha(: you don’t have to tell me. Im just being nosy. As usual.

I know. But if I expect you to not keep things from me, I suppose I should do the same… We were talking about boys. You, Brentley, and Dennis in particular.

Me?

Yes you.

Why?

I took a deep breath. To late to back out now.

Because I used to like you. And she brought the whole thing up.

Oh… okay. I understand why you didn’t wanna be honest now….but, since you were, I guess I should be to. I liked you too.

Oh, did you now?

Yes. Yes I admit it. Lol(:

Haha(: Well, since your being so honest, I’ll at least tell you that what I just said was a total lie.

Wait, what? You made me be all honest for nothin?

I didn’t make you, but I’ll make it up to you. The truth is, we were talking about you, because I still like you.

Oh.

Yeah.

And I never saw the paper again. It was never slid back, and he never made eye contact with me again that day. Something had to give…. Because me admitting that and him not talking to me, wasn’t cool.

   It turned out I freaked out over nothing. He broke his pencil and didn’t have a back up. Nothing big. The next day, we continued passing notes and talking on a regular basis like normal, and he never brought up that conversation again. That’s why I loved him. He knew when to drop something, and when to just move on.

   And he also knew how to hold something innocent against me for the rest of my seventh grade year.

   We were walking back from lunch, and we decided to take the route through our middle school’s over decorated courtyard. We were slowly, silently walking, and I was naturally swinging my arms, like every other human being on the planet, and my hand accidentally slipped into his. And for some reason, I didn’t pull back. Something in me just told me not to. And that would be the last time I ever listened to whatever that something was.