here's a story V

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I whacked his face with my dictionary on the first day of school.

I was at my locker, taking out my books when my best friend snatched my dictionary from me because she wanted to look up all the curse words. I laughed and tried to get it back because everyone passing by was givibg her funny looks as she said the definition of *bleep* a little too loudly. We ended up doing a little tug and war for 5 minutes when suddenly she decides to let go of the darn book, causing the hand that I was using to hold it to jerk back with force. Onto your face.

I turned around, my jaw dropping as I saw you. I've known you from AP English and AP Chemistry. You were the guy that always topped the class and the one that caught my attention. You with your blue eyes, dark curly hair and that dimpled smile. And now you were standing infront of me, rubbing your sore red nose. Such luck I have.

I apologized a million times feeling the world's biggest idiot. But you just smiled at me, shrugging it off. I continued apologizing, despite you assuring you were fine.

After that day you started talking to me at class, during lunch, in the hallways and after school. And after a year of being great friends you asked me to be your girlfriend.

And now here we are, four years later having a study date at your apartment.

"Hey, you know the time you whacked me on the nose with your dictionary?"

I blushed.

"I've always had this little crush on you and when you whacked me with that dictionary that somehow gave me that little kick to work up the nerve to talk to you."

I smiled.

"Thank you for doing that. I love you so damn much." You said, sneaking in a kiss at me.

About a year and a half ago, I got dared to ask my crush on a date. I'd liked him for about a year or so by then. Tall, muscular, funny; he was my dream date. The only problem was, I had barely spoken a word to him.

A week passed and I staved it off. My friends made fun of me, called me a coward. And, frankly, I was. In the end I got so nervous I dug my nails into my arm so hard I have a scar to this day. But I had a reputation to uphold. I had never backed down from a dare before, and I wasnt going to now.

My small group of friends and I were sitting out behind the school, splayed out on the grass, eating lunch. I remember with an arbitrary sort of clarity that I was eating a goldfish cracker, mustering my courage with an ominous feeling of dread, when I looked up. Just below when the brick exterior wall of the school met the roof, were two words in stencilled spray paint: CHEER UP

And in that moment I smiled and realized everything was going to be okay, no matter his answer. Life would go on, things would be forgotten, people would drift into vague memories. So wonderful was this state of bliss induced by those words that I took a picture of them with my phone and made them my screensaver.

That day I ended up asking out my crush, and, just as I feared, he rejected me. But all thanks to those words, I knew I would survive.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, the anonymous author of those graffittied words, the boy who saved me from a nervous breakdown, the boy who unknowingly counselled me through my remorse, would turn out to be my first kiss.

Today in art class we made awkward eye contact. Again. For about the tenth time this week.

But today was different, because when class ended, you walked over to my table and talked. To me.

"Hey, I know you enjoy the sexual gaze thing we do all the time, and I do too, but I can't stand it anymore. I had to come say something to you." You scratched your head, smiling that devastating smile of yours, and I struggled to breathe.

"I- It's- It's not sexual! You just happen to look at me a lot, and it's...awkward!" I tripped over my words, a flush spreading on my cheeks.

"Excuses," You chuckled, "But you know what? I'm going to admit it. I do look at you a lot. So what? You're fascinating."

At that point I literally could not function. You were smiling and it was all I could do not to spontaneously combust.

"So are you," I blurted, and immediately regretted it. Great comeback, I berated myself, and gathered up my things. I had to leave before saying anything worse.

"Hey," You leant against my table, "Can we have the chance to watch each other's fascinating selves outside of art class? This Sunday, okay? I'll text you."

"Wait, how do you know my num-"

You grinned and walked off.

So here I am, remembering each second of our encounter and hyperventilating, because you've made art class really, really fascinating now.

-see you sunday

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