[ON HOLD] 36 Students in a Classroom

10. I still think there's a gas leak in here . . .

                    10. THE FRIEND-ZONED KID

So, I don’t think there are a lot of guys reading this. I mean, I would be really surprised if there were even five guys reading this somewhere in the world. Because it’s not likely.

But, I just have to dedicate this chapter to this one category.

I just have to. Someone needs to say something.

‘Cause this is just getting ridiculous.

You know that kid in your class?

The one that’s really nice to everyone and ends up liking whichever girl who was nice to him because most girls just ignore him and talk to all the other guys?

Or that kid that’s really sweet and is friends with like every girl in the class and has liked quite a few of them but they never like him back?

. . . What is up with that?

It’s so terrible to watch. It’s like I’m watching My Best Friend’s Wedding and he just morphed into Julia Roberts. And I, sadly, am still this random girl watching the TV screen, sobbing while I attempt to throw popcorn into my mouth, and then just ending up covered in popcorn and tears.

Not to mention I just ruined both my couch and my hair, because I can tell there is a popcorn kernel in my bangs, as I’m sobbing, “Whyyyyyy?”

And then the guy gets over it and moves on to another girl.

And the cycle continues.

It’s like waking up to the same nightmare of your life every day.

And you know what this nightmare is called?

The friend-zone, obviously.

This guy, Roberto, is the sweetest guy ever. [Hence why I gave him a hot name.] And he might talk a lot about girls, but he is pretty naïve when it comes to them.

So, me being me, I tried to give him some pointers on girls. Tried to help him understand why they weren’t lining up to talk to him. But after a while I came up blank.

Well I don’t know why girls don’t like him.

I’ll be sitting somewhere near him at lunch or something, and I’ll see him give a girl a red rose, and the girl just stares at him.

No smile. No thank you.

Just blinking.

So now, in my head, I just became an MMA fighter, and I’m looking at this girl—who in my mind has no training, and it’s like she has just tried to punch me in the face.

Like.

What?

Wait, shhhh. Did you hear that? That popping sound?

Yeah, that’s my fist hitting your jaw if you are really stupid enough to need me to knock some sense into you.

I feel so. Bad for this kid.

Heck, I wish I liked him. But I don’t, only because both of us have already established each other as just friends, and plus I am more of an advice girl to him. Which I am totally fine with. Neither one of us has any feelings towards each other, besides platonic ones.

But watching him repeatedly get turned down is literally the definition of why guys turn into jerks. ‘Cause everyone they ask out turns ‘em down, since they’re,

“TOO NICE”.

Like what the heck is this, an audition to cast your boyfriend as the demon spawn in your life?

So what if he's nice?

“Oh my gosh, he’s so cute. And did you see his eyes? They’re to die for. My parents actually love him and he’s so sweet. Plus, I totally love his outfit today and the last time we went out, he bought me a diamond necklace!”

Me: “Please tell me you’re going to marry him.”

“Oh . . . no. I decided to go with my gut and choose Hubro. Because he just seems like a better fit and would probably treat me better, anyway.”

 And I’m just like, “Hahaha, aha . . . Are you high? Or—” this is the part where I shoot up from my seat and start looking everywhere around the room “—is there a gas leak in here that I don’t know about—‘cause I don’t like gas leaks.” Then I pause. “And are we talking about the same Hubro? Please tell me you are never bringing this superman-boxer-sagging midget to your house to meet your family.”

And she’s all, “He just makes me feel so special.”

And by this point I’ve already given up on life and changed the topic, but in my head I’m still trying to figure out what she means by that.

Because we both know Hubro only makes himself feel special.

As . . . awkward and wrong as that sounds.

And I don’t even know what to tell Roberto anymore because this just keeps happening to him.

One time I was talking to him, and I said:

“Maybe you should save the sweet stuff for when you’re already in a relationship. Because then she’ll already like you the way you are.”

And he goes:

“No girl has ever liked me before.”

And I swear I think my heart stopped beating and exploded in heartbreak.

Ugh.

Poor kid.

Any Robertos out there, I’m just telling you now that you have like a whole secret world of supporters out there that you have no idea about.

Kind of like vampires. Or werewolves. Or witches. Or warlocks. But technically warlocks can probably be looped into the same world as witches, so I don’t—um. Off topic.

And to the girls who turn down all the Robertos in the world and go for the jerks that break your heart anyway, please. At least give one friend-zoned guy a chance and see what happens.

Because if not, my fist is coming back to make another popping sound.

And maybe a snap, and a little bit of a crackle.

Ha! Get it?

. . . No?

S—Snap, crackle, and . . .

Okay, forget it.

                    *        *        *

New chapterrrr! I apologize for any mistakes that might be in there. In case I missed something.

Next chapter shall be a continuation of le notes situation.

Comment if you guys know any Robertos!

‘AwesomelyBlaze