nefelibata (n.) | ✔️

twenty-four.

Present. December 11th, 2018. 

I need to distance myself from Carson... and soon. 

He's currently sat on my couch, shoving Doritos in his mouth with his face fixated on the TV. I think we're watching a Yankees game, but I can't remember. He and my father have become acquainted, not without the "what are your intentions" talk. That was embarrassing. 

I've repeated to my parents that he's only a friend of mine, but they love to harass me and say he'd be a good man for me or something dumb along those lines. Carson laughs and shakes it off. 

On Thanksgiving, he practically ran over here after his family dinner to drop off a pastry dessert that one of his sisters made. He claimed to have helped make it, but I knew he didn't. 

He always finds me in school before the first bell. He still offers me rides home from work, even though he knows that since it is now winter, I drive. He's always there, whether I like it or not. 

Unfortunately, he's hard to read. Unless he's acting jealous or notably different than how he usually is, I can't understand him. Somehow, he can see right through me, always pointing out when I'm not feeling my best or when I'm moody. Maybe I'm just unobservant. 

Our bond has gotten concerningly strong. I've developed feelings that I'd rather not express, but I can't help it, and I know for a fact that he knows. He's become more cocky and playful around me. I think it's because he's just comfortable with me now, and I didn't realize it until now, but I'm the same way. I feel good around him. Like I can honestly be myself. He doesn't make fun of me if I don't wear makeup and he doesn't judge me if I decide I don't want to say a word. He doesn't question me if I'd rather sit on the couch, watch a movie, and enjoy one another's company rather than speak. He listens, and that's why I've begun to look at him as more. I know it's wrong though. I know it would never work, and that's why I need to distance myself from him. As soon as possible too. 

After all, why would he go for a dark and depressed girl like me when he could have one of the out-going, beautiful, normal, mentally-healthy girls?

"Lenaaaaa," Carson waves his hand in front of my face with a smirk. "did you hear me?" He asks.

I shake my head. "No, sorry. What's up?" I don't notice my fathers presence until I look over at him frowning at the TV. 

"Lenny invited you over for dinner. He made too much, and my sisters are harassing him. You up for it?" I wanted to say no, but I didn't want him to leave just yet, so I nodded and turned to my Dad. 

He was already looking at me, a smile evident on his face. He blinked once and gave a nod of his head. 

Carson said goodbye to my father with a shake of the hand and the weird "bro-hug" that guys do. He then, like the gentleman he is, went to the kitchen and thanked my mother for having him other. 

Once he decided he was all set to get going, he absentmindedly grabbed my hand, something he'd been doing a lot lately, and walked me outside. I'm not sure when it became something that we just got used. All I remember is the first time Carson grabbed my hand; he didn't let go until I looked at him with a perplexed look. A small tinge of pink rose to his cheeks with his bright smile and let go of my hand, apologizing soon after. I couldn't even think about the hand holding; I could only think of the fact that he was blushing. 

He opened the door for me once we got to the car and I scowled at him. "Can't you just let me be the kind, charming gentleman that I am for once?" 

I scoffed. "Why of course, Carl, but can you be the kind and charming gentleman without throwing cheesy in there too?" He laughed, as usual. 

"You know what? It sucks that being a gentleman is considered cheesy. You read too many books!" He let go of my hand as I hopped into the car.