Hey readers,
this book will consist of short stories I compile from different competitions or write for pure fun. I even started collecting prompts I wrote or beginnings of books. It helps me track my progress and I would love for it to be entertain...
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Does he like me?
I heaved a sigh as my hand weaved through the clear, cold water, soft like silk.
I hummed a melody looking up at the multicolored lamps that were once supposed to show the same color, a sort of whitish-yellow, but long ago took on a gras-green and passion-red colors. She warned me. I sighed, looking the two boys right in front of me up and down involuntarily, averting my eyes before they could notice. Their defined bodies in swimming trunks were a serious eye candy-temptation. Could she be right?
It was my turn, so I pushed myself off the wall and drifted through the water. My head - a countdown. The task: alternatively times twelve. I remembered the time our coach screamed at us as everyone just followed the first swimmer, not thinking about the task. The problem: our leader at the time had not understood it correctly and no one corrected him because we all forgot what we had to do as soon as we received our instructions. The next time I got to the wall, my eyes instantly searched for the clock. Another minute later. Argh, who decides on time passing this slowly during practice?
"2 more times." The coach's voice filled my ears. Again? "You're kidding me right?", I whispered, before instinctively following the others. Instinct acquired after ten years of swimming practice. The ones behind me were catching up fast and the one in front of me gained space. No slowing down now. Grabbing hold of the wall again and shifting my feet, I glanced up. Oh shit. We only did 9 rounds yet and I thought we were already done. Yeah, done for. As my body screamed under the pressure of strokes, my mind wandered.
Before the swim lesson, I received another one of his texts. Every few hours he asked how I was doing. Does one think of his friend that often? I shivered involuntarily thinking about him hugging me and resting his head on my shoulder the last time. Where would I draw the line? I did not want to hurt him. Yet, I was not comfortable around him anymore. I knew that for a fact. 100 percent for sure. What does one call being repulsed by a friend acting close? Asexual? What about my sexual fantasies and crushes on fictional and real characters then? I groaned silently, coughing as I swallowed another load of water.
"Hey, hey, you, you. I don't like your girlfriend."
I squinted my eyes at the boy in front of me.
"I think you need a new one."
I grinned quietly.
"I could be your girlfriend."
Silently singing Avril Lavigne's girlfriend in my mind I finished the last round, heaved myself out of the water to stumble to the wall and rest a shaky palm against it.
I sighed.
Closing the book, I shut my eyes and rest my head on the desktop.
Tomorrow was going to be a long day.
The day that I confess.
I confess that I do not like him like that.
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