journalism | zorbyn ✓

entry six

woah.

okay, i'm writing this in the bathroom because i took my journal to school today.

today you came to talk to me during lunch, just like normal.

"hey, zach," you said and smiled, and i said hey back. you gave me a fist bump. it was just like normal.

but then something not so normal happened. you looked at me curiously.

"you look kinda cold. also your hands are always cold when we fist bump," you quirked.

"oh, yeah, i'm always cold. no biggie, though," i shrugged. you smirked, unknowingly i'd fallen right into your trap.

right fucking there, you pulled off your hoodie and gave it to me. leaving you in your short sleeved tee. in front of all of my friends. in front of all of your friends. you held it out to me and i just stared at it.

"you gonna take it?" you giggled at my expression. i'm, like, ninety eight percent sure my face was as red as a tomato.

"um, th-thank you," i muttered, taking the hoodie from you. you grinned.

"don't mention it, z." you turned away and walked back to your table.

the second you were out of earshot, daniel and jack and gabbie and tate were squealing and awwing and cheering me on.

"oh my god, zach!" tate exclaimed.

"bro, nice job, corbyn's a catch," jack nodded.

"you two are the cutest!" gabbie gushed.

"get. married," daniel demanded.

i cautiously slipped the yellow hoodie on. it smelled like you. it was a bit big on me, the sleeves flopped around a lot. i cuddled into it, not caring who was looking. i'm sure i was still blushing.

i like the way you smell, corbyn. you smell like vanilla with a hint of cinnamon. i think that's my new favorite smell. thank you for your yellow hoodie, corbyn. i think yellow is my new favorite color.

i found your number in the pocket of the hoodie. you're pretty smooth, corbyn.

also, it's 11/11. i'm sure you know what my wish is.

~ zach
tuesday
11.11.17
1:03 pm