after a week of flirtatiously texting we had agreed to hangout again.
after that night when we first had our encounter i felt something.
usually i feel nothing when talking to a boy that i plan on hurting. this time was different.
maybe it was the way his short pink hair rest messily on his head. maybe the way his cheeks were covered with rose colored dust. maybe it was the way he talked fondly of the boy on his lockscreen. the way he rambled about how the boy really made him feel. i think the feeling of someone talking about me in a certain way might feel good rather than someone talking about me to others in a bad way.
i run my hands down the front and sides of my black t shirt. after a few moments of desperately trying to decrease the amount of wrinkles that took over the piece of clothing, i put on my black hoodie that i had no intentions of ever removing while in the presence of joba.
my phone lights up and the time is revealed once i press the small button located on the side.
the time reads 7: 30 pm. anxiety rushes throughout my body once i realise im behind schedule. we planned on meeting up and eating at the potbellys on lasalle.
i run out of my place located two stories up in the small apartment that has a look as if it isn't cared for. chipped walls, dirty floors, broken items in the hallways.
my small, gold necklace makes contact with my face multiple times as i rush out the apartment and to the bus stop.
i run fast enough to catch the bus before it takes off to the next stop.
i go and sit in the middle section of the bus and look out the window, puffs of air leaving my mouth as i rub my hand on my rose painted face.
the bus comes to a stop after multiple stops and the driver tiredly yells, "lasalle!" my head jolts up quickly as i fastly walk up to the mini step of stairs and through the doors that soon closed after i exited.
i walk into the potbellys and my eyes wander through the building, lingering on a few people.
my eyes stop and stay focused on a familiar head with pink fainted hair.
i walk towards him and greet, "hey, joba." i smile.
"hey, matt." he greets back with a smile that causes the corners of his eyes to crinkle.
we decide to go up and order our sandwiches. we stand in line. i anxiously stand there with a ravenous appetite as the couple in front of us takes what seems like a whole eternity to choose what they wanted to devour.
"next!" the woman with short, black hair, and tan skin like the boy who looked extremely weary by the amount of time he had left, yells.
once we order what we were in the mood for, we walk up to a taller counter top and tell the person who stood behind it what we want on our sandwiches.
"lettuce, little bit of tomato, and a dab of mayo." joba orders with precision in his tone.
"didn't know i was hangin' out with a princess." i say, topping it off with a wink and my popular smirks.
"oh shut up." he laughs as he rolls his eyes.
"i would like mayo." i blankly order.
"wow, didn't know i hangin' out with such a loser. who only gets mayo?" he asks as we move towards the cashier.
"im simple. always have and always will." i reply as i hand a wad of cash to the tired male who leaned his hip into the polished, wooden counter.
"i could've paid." joba whined as the cashier hands me back any extra cash.
"don't worry about it," i smile.
"my treat." i wink as i pick up the tray that had our two sandwiches in a pale wax paper.
actually that means my stereotypial gentleman instincts now have caused me to beg my boss for extra shifts.
we walk back to the vacant booth that joba had reserved for us before i had arrived at the rather large building that was occupied by only a few people that seemed to be in the age range of late teens to mid 20s.
"wow, this is great." i groan as i enjoy every taste of the toasted bread that included thin turkey slices, strips of crisp bacon, ham, and pasty, white mayo.
my phone vibrates against the black fabric of my jeans. i open it and is met to a blank, and modest text from ian, one of my closest friends.
he invites me to one of his house parties that usually is a few friends hanging out, and of course his boyfriend that is rarely not talked about by the chatty friend.
"hey, my friend, uh, invited me to a party," i start to say, my words coming out weirdly by my distracted train of thought. "you wanna come?"
"sure, when?"
"friday. ill text you the address."
after a bit of laughing, talking, and finishing the sandwiches, the hangout comes to an end.
we both walk out the potbellys and stand out in the windy atmosphere.
"this was nice." he says awkwardly as he slightly rocks back and forth.
"yeah," i chuckle as my hands find their way into the pockets of my jeans.
"well, i guess this is bye," he says as he eyes his phone that lights up with another text message.
it's rare for his phone not to light up from any type of notification.
"bye, matt. " he waves before starting to make his way toward the end of the sidewalk and into a small car that has a variety of small scratches into the sides of it.
i watch as he drives out of the parking spot and down the street before mournfully walking back to the nearby bus stop. thoughts of eager physical contact with the new boy that i had barely met took over my train of thought for the whole ride to the apartment.
_
this probably sucks. this is more of a filler chapter. anyways, i have a basketball game tomorrow & idk.
