I decided. After days, and weeks of waiting and thinking about it - about him - I decided.
I'm going to tell him.
I know he won't love me back. I know he won't tell me he needs me, even if it's only a little. I know he won't try to let me down easy.
He'll probably laugh in my face, he'll probably tell me he could never love me and never will.
I wouldn't be surprised if he called me a queer and said that I could never be loved by anyone; It's probably true.
I let out a shaky breath and tried to calm myself. I was already nervous enough, I don't need to stress myself out.
I already know when I'd ask him. I knew he had a detention today, I was in class when it happened.
I am going to ask you after detention. Hopefully, there won't be too many people with you. That's would be too much pressure.
I sit outside on the sidewalk by the school. I'll just wait for him.
I'll wait for you.
After a while of waiting - which didn't seem nearly long enough to work up the nerve to talk to him - I heard the doors to the school open, and a few people I couldn't recognize walk out.
I waited for a while as at least 5 people walked out and completely ignored me.
I waited there for a while. For anyone else to walk out, for him to walk out.
But he didn't.
I ended up sitting there outside the school until the last teacher there told me I had to leave.
Craig must've slipped detention. Why didn't I think of that? Why did I assume he was just going to go to detention?
I started walking home. I lived a while away and the sun was about to set.
I stopped and stood next to a park of some sort. I walked over and sat on one of the swings and watched the sun go down.
I guess I'll always be waiting.
I'll be waiting for him to need me. I'll be waiting for him to want me. I'll be waiting for him to love me.
I'll be waiting for him to notice me.
The sun set completely over the horizon, making the world settle into dark.
I sighed and looked down at the ground.
"What are you doing here?"
I look up and see a figure standing far from me.
"W-Waiting," I reply, not sure with what to say.
The figure approaches me and sits down in the swing next to me. It's him. Craig.
He nods, "What are you waiting for?"
I don't answer. I look at the ground, "I was w-waiting for you, a-actually," I barely whisper, nervously clutching the hem of my shirt.
He laughs slightly, "That's an awful pick up line."
I laugh awkwardly too, "I-It's not a p-pick up line."
He smiles at me, "Why are you waiting for me?"
"I-I have a s-something to tell y-you..."
"And what would that be?"
I swallow back my nerves and continue to fidget with the hem of my shirt, "I-I..." I take deep breath, "Ilikeyou."
We sit in silence for a minute. I stare at my hands, feeling tears well-up in my eyes.
I hear him stand up, I figure he's just going to leave.
But I feel him grab my chin and make me look at him. I feel a tear slip down my face. He gives me a smile and wipes it away, and without saying anything he kisses me.
After only a second or two he pulls away, "That's an awful pick up line, but I like it."
I stare at him.
"I like you, too."
