"But it could get worse!" Sam exclaimed, referring to the recent story in it's entirety which I told her. She wasn't too happy about Mateo and I making peace, yet she managed to let me know that it was what I wanted, but I had to be careful.
I believe her however. Who knows what these girls still have up their sleeves just because of Mateo and I having a friendship?
"Hey," Samantha distracted herself with one of the pictures that Mateo drew me. It hung on the wall above the picture of my mother and I.
"Is this you?" Her jaw dropped in awe.
I continued to study over my notes from the new unit still Physics. I had to know what I needed to know, because we tend to have pop quizes, since the professor is so loyal about his teaching career.
"Yes..." I said lowly. "He," I hesitated. She already rambled on how I needed to be cautious, yet I now didn't care. She should know that he drew it, because the picture was so beautiful. "He drew it..."
It ran awkwardly silent, to the point where I began to second guess on letting her know about the picture.
"It's so beautiful..." She whispered.
I smirked. I knew she would come along at some point. "I know r--"
"Did you ask him to draw it or something?"
"No," I chuckled. "He drew pictures of me a couple times."
"He seems talented." It was as if that shit talking, and mothering flew out the window.
"He also said he plays the piano, but I-I never seen him..."
He claimed that he played the piano shortly after we met, since we began talking about how we both loved music.
"Listen." She went into mother mode once again, placing her little body on the edge of my bed. "I don't want you to get hurt. He seems like a nice guy and all, but Miranda and the others--"
"We're not dating, Sam..." I slouched my shoulders. "Stop thinking that."
"It could happen though." She objected. "You guys are so alike...And don't think I've seen you guys talk before. I know you're comfortable with him. You trust him."
I sighed. It was true. "Fuck it," I murmured. "Yes, Sam I like him. And he wouldn't like me. I've never experienced a first kiss, lost my virginity, or have even been touched like all of these other teenagers." I pouted.
Many lost their innocence where I was back home at as young as fifteen. Just like smoking is what everyone did, sex was it too. I remember hearing them speak on it, and my stomach would turn into knots in disgust.
They would speak on it like how I would when I get A+'s on tests, and treated it like it was a sport, everything.
It was to the point where I wondered and believed that I was too ugly to even experience someone crushing on me...or being called pretty.
That's why, I don't think he would like me.
"Don't people want who isn't virgin? Have experience, know what to do, at least experienced a kiss?" I went on, which made Sam suddenly burst into laughter at how much of a lost puppy I felt.
"What?" I shrugged. "Why would someone want someone who doesn't know what to do--"
"Cherry, boys LOVE virgins!!" She exclaimed, happily waving her arms in the air.
"I have an ex, who I still friends with now since I new him since elementary..."
I closed my books and binders, and sat like a child waiting for her to go on.
