Summer Sights

09 | more

a/n: i've been really into indie/alternative music lately and this song goes perfectly with how kamryn acts.

I hate texting. 

I hate texting with a passion. 

I hate not being to feel a connection with the person I'm trying to talk too. Or not being able to hear the influx of their voice. Even writing me a letter and sending it in the mail would be better than texting me. 

I hate texting.

Texting, is the most half-assed, impersonal form of communication on this planet. I don't even like texting my family that much. 

But when I was sitting in bed last night after that "date" with Josh, all I could think about was Andre. I might've stretched the truth slightly when describing the event to him. And Josh might not be as bad as I made him out to be. But he wasn't Andre. And that's all that matters. 

So I took a step and texted him. And the moment he replied back I wished I had called him. I wanted to hear the huskiness of his voice, that would multiply even more in a whisper. I wanted to hear one if his throaty laughs. I wanted to feel a connection.

Texting was enough though. It didn't let me down. Texting Andre was different than it would be with anyone else. And I don't know why that is. But texting Andre at two in the morning felt like one of most personal experiences I've ever had before.

 And I don't know why. Not very many words were shared and pent up feelings weren't confessed. But I found myself feeling butterflies each time I heard the ding of my phone. 

And I found myself wanting the conversation to continue for hours and hours. But it didn't. And maybe that's for the best. 

Because do I want to risk it all again? Can I trust that I'll be okay if it ends like it did the last time? 

I'm not even ok now. 

I don't know what the hell I'm feeling now. 

But I do know, that each time I heard the ding of my phone, I felt butterflies. 

I don't think I'm daring enough to trust someone like that again though. I mean, how can I trust him if I know that even the least expecting people wear masks. Hell, I'm one of them. 

♢♢♢

"Kamryn, what's your sign?" Emily asks with her voice muffled. We're on our break and she decided to spend it with her face stuffed in one of those asinine magazines for teenage girls. 

I stand up from my seat beside her, the concrete getting too hot for me to sit on any longer.

"I don't know Em, I don't really pay attention to that stuff," I reply, pacing the area. 

She lowers the colorful magazine abruptly and wears a quizzical expression on her face. She's squinting because the sun is hitting her so directly, which also causes her usually pale skin to slightly redden. It gives her cheeks a natural blush and her skin a light rosy tint, but not so much that she resembles her fiery hair.

"I thought you liked the stars and constellations and that stuff. That's basically what zodiac signs are based on," she says with a confused frown.   

"I like looking at them because they're comforting, but that's different than knowing the science behind them. Or caring about it."