Naomi POV:
I've never been a big fan of parties. I honestly didn't see the point. It's just a bunch of cheap alcohol, drunk dancing, and usually bad decisions. I did my best to avoid parties, but when you're friends with the three most popular guys probably in the whole town, it becomes kind of hard to avoid.
That's why I am currently leaning against the counter next to Jordan while he talks to an old friend, counting down the minutes until we can leave. Jordan's old friend Andre had invited all of us, and when they introduced me to him he seemed pretty nice, but parties weren't the right kind of setting for a girl like me.
My attention is drawn back to Jordan when a girl comes practically flying out of nowhere and swings her arms around his neck.
"Oh my gosh, Jordan! Where have you been? I haven't seen you in weeks!" I raise an eyebrow at the blonde haired girl as Jordan returns the hug.
"Kaitlyn! It's been forever! How's it going? You look as beautiful as ever," he said. What?
"Not as good as it would be if you hadn't practically disappeared from my life," she laughed. He chuckled as she hugged him again before noticing my confused expression. He coughed and unwrapped her arms from around himself.
"Naomi, this is Kaitlyn," he introduced. "She's an old friend of mine."
"Hi! I'm Kaitlyn, but you can call me Katey if you want," she said, holding a hand out to shake. I hesitantly shook her hand before dropping my arm awkwardly to my side.
"Naomi," I said. There was no doubt that this girl was almost as good looking as Jordan. She had light blonde hair that was pulled up in a half up, half down bun with a braid going along the part of her hair, a hairstyle that I would never be able to pull off or even put up for that matter. I've only ever been able to put my hair up in a ponytail, bun, or braid. Anything else I would mess up. She was wearing a loose white crop top and skinny jeans with tan, ankle length heeled boots, and although the outfit was simple she made it look elegant and fashionable. As she and Jordan struck up a conversation, it became increasingly clear that this girl was perfect. Not only was she gorgeous, but she was also a perfect little saint. She was nice enough to try to include me in the conversation despite me giving quick answers before going back to staring at my feet, completely avoiding taking part in the conversation, and she was noticeable more mature than a lot of people our age.
She was a complete angel compared to me, who was neither pretty nor a patient person like she is. I only had average brown hair and brown eyes, my height was nowhere near the attractive people chart, and I wasn't fashionable at all. I was only wearing a tee shirt and leggings with some white sneakers, and it looked stupid compared to her well-matched outfit. Personality-wise, I wasn't perfect either. She was patient, a good listener, and obviously not stupid. I was usually irrational, I was a horrible listener if I'm being honest, and... well, I'm not stupid either, but I'm everything else. She's the kind of girl that you wish you were, but know you aren't.
And apparently Jordan knows, too. I could tell how he got nervous around her, how his speech was messed up and he seemed to constantly fidget and shit his weight. I noticed that he seemed just a bit too enthusiastic talking to her, as if he was faking everything, pretending to be somebody who he isn't. He was nervous and I knew exactly why: he liked her.
It's not a friendly kind of like though. It's the kind where you want to be alone with them and be closer to them every moment of the day. It's the kind where you spend every waking moment thinking about that person, wishing, hoping they'll see you the way you see them. It's the kind of like that I feel for Jordan. It's moments like these, when you realize that the boy you love feels the same way you do for a different person, where you can actually feel the pain in your chest from seeing and hearing something that breaks your heart.
