Mr. Right? ✔

Mr. Right? | 02

KAIRO

Nearly half a day had passed since Ethan had suggested that I write Alexandria a letter of confession - yet I was still stressing out over it. The problem at hand wasn't that I was overwhelmingly nervous, nor was it that I feared rejection more than anything.

Okay, maybe it was both of those things - but the elephant in the room was the fact that I didn't know which locker belonged to Alexandria, and so I simply stood there staring at each and every single locker in the hallway. 

And don't get me wrong, I could've simply asked a friend to hand the letter over to her or given it to her myself, but in the first case - I was a hundred and one percent sure that they'd attempt to read it. In the case of the latter, I was too embarrassed to even let her catch a glimpse of my hideous face.

The letter was like how you'd expect every love letter to go:

Dear Alex (I hope I can call you that), 

This might come off as a shock to you, and honestly I don't blame you. But please read all the way through, I promise I'm not some kind of creep.. haha.

The 'haha' had been scribbled over with black ink a minimum of fifty times because it made it seem like the possibility of me being a creep was still up for debate - which, it wasn't. I'm anything but a creep - it's perfectly normal for someone to stare at their crush for hours on end anyway.. right? Right.

I don't know how to say this without embarrassing myself so I'm just going to go for it. I like you. I've liked you for a long, long, long time. I'm pretty sure you already knew because I'm not very subtle with the way I behave around you and I wouldn't blame you if I made you uncomfortable. In which case, I'm terribly sorry. I had no intentions of creeping you out.

I'm going to end this here before I spill unnecessary information about myself.

-Kairo (Yes, the soda-boy). 

(Also the best Arab boy to exist.)

I let out a sigh of satisfaction and resumed roaming around the hallway in hopes of spotting her locker - when, finally, I spotted a locker with the word 'Alex' sprawled across the door in big, bold letters - which I'm pretty sure we weren't allowed to do. It was against school rules to write or stick anything on the locker doors - and I was taken aback by that because Alexandria had always seemed like a girl who went by the rules. 

Nevertheless, I was thankful that she'd decided to go against the rules just that once - because if that hadn't been the case, I probably would've ended up being forced into handing her the letter myself. 

The bell went off just as I had found her locker, and before the students could begin pouring into the hallway, I quickly slid the folded piece of paper into her locker through the tiny gap at the bottom and rushed to a corner where I hid and watched. 

You know what? Maybe I was a creep after all.

I waited for seconds, then minutes as the busy crowd of students rushed around the halls in a frenzy. But, even in the ocean of people, I couldn't find the person I wanted to see most. 

And then the unexpected happened. A male student, who had dark tousled hair and sun-tanned skin made his way over to Alexandria's locker. I'd never seen him around before so I had no way of knowing who on Earth he was and why he was messing around with Alexandria's locker.

He swiftly punched in the locker combination and pulled out a couple of his books - when the letter I'd stuffed in fell out. He glanced at it in confusion, looked around for a moment and then bent down to pick it up. 

I decided I couldn't watch any longer and pressed my back up against the wall behind me with a distressed sigh. 

That letter was meant for Alexandria, not him. 

I proceeded to rub my temples in frustration. Who on Earth even was he in the first place? Was he Alexandria's boyfriend? Or best friend maybe? Why would she give him her locker combination? And if he was a friend, why would he take the letter? He should know better.

Oh, crap. What if he read the letter and outted me to the entire school? I was already infamous for starring in a stupid commercial and now I was probably going to be known as the creepy high-school student who doesn't know his limits when it comes to love.

And for that, I had only three words: 

Fuck my life.