See you Tomorrow

Seventh Grade

It wasn't fair. In seventh. He's liked me since seventh grade. My mind wandered back to seventh. . . .
"Hey!" Corey put down his tray and sat. The pack of girls that always followed him were at a table a couple feet away, giving me death stares as usual.
"Hey." I mumbled, picking at my food. When you're hated by every girl in your class because you're their crushes' friend and a THREAT, you tend to be down in the dumps.
"Aw, c'mon. It's okay."
I slapped down my fork. "Easy for you to say! You're not hated!" Tears stung my eyes, which made more emotions threaten to bubble over.
"It's okay." He put his hand on mine. "I actually do know what it feels like. You think the guys like it that a lot of the girls follow me?" He chuckled. "I think you're closer friends with the guys than I am. Aren't I lucky? I get all these girls, and the other guys get the best one!"
"Ha ha! And who's that? Jena? She seems to hang around them a lot."
"No. Not her. She might be pretty, but she's ugly."
"You're telling me! She's the one who trips me every day!"
I realized he still had my hand. I looked at our hands, then at him. His face got red, then he took his hand off. "Sorry."
"It's okay. So, who's that girl?"
"You."
Woah. What? He was joking. He made jokes like that all the time. Especially when we were younger. "Yeah, ha ha. Funny joke." I looked at his face. He wasn't joking. "Wait, sorry."
He put on a smile that looked genuine. A smile I now realize was a cover up for how much my words had hurt. "I got you, Dummy! You thought I was for real!"
"You're a good actor, Weirdo!"
He put his face closer to mine. "Dummy!"
"Weirdo!" I put my face closer to his until our foreheads were touching.
"Dummy!"
"Weirdo!"
"Corey! Anna!" We turned to see Mr. Beauregard motioning for us to leave space between us.
"Sorry!" Corey shouted across the lunchroom. The bratty bunch swooned over Corey, and Mr. Beauregard shook his head, smiling and probably chuckling, at Corey. He turned to me, smiling.
I was so stupid when I was younger. I sighed. Now I know how to read people, and that would've been a dead giveaway. I couldn't believe how I didn't realize back then. Everything he did, everything he's done, it's all been for us. He would do anything for me, and I think I would do anything for him. It wasn't fair. If we would've just told each other how we felt- if I would've told him how I felt, we would've had more time together. How can you feel excruciatingly alone when you have someone, but not as alone when you don't have anyone?