Why Don't You Just Kiss Me Then.

Thinkin'

Stupidness. . .

That night I lay in the plush bed, staring at the ceiling as I gathered my thoughts together. Night was always the time to think for me, and I was very ready to unload the heavy burden of thoughts. Let's get overthinking! Woot. Not. I had subconsciously put that stupid kiss in the back of my mind, and now was the time. So I thought. It had only lasted a second, just a quick peck, but there was so much to notice. Like how his lips were softer than I expected, and those sparks. . . Dang it. Maybe I shouldn't have done that. Well at least things aren't awkward. And of course I don't like my best friend. I'm pretty sure that will never happen. Suddenly my hand smacked up onto my face, seemingly having a mind of its own. My fingers fumbled across my lips, the very ones that had brushed across Thomas Sangster's. Do I like Thomas? I overthought about it a little more. He's okay looking, has got a huge personality, and, well. . . No, based on that he is only my friend. But then came the true test. This is how I always figure out whether I like someone or not. I imagine kissing Thomas. I cringe away from the thought, but I force myself to gather the thought into a picture in my head.

sHUCk nOPe.

OOO. She no like him. Shuck. I honestly love that word. SHUCK ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT! Slinthead. HA!