biensoul


a required taste for the pretentious as all get out


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hey jealousy
December 16, 2004, 9:30 am

I left school on Tuesday around 3:00p.m. (the earliest time EVER) to do whatever it was that needed to be done in preparation for the d-a-t-e. Yeah, the face was moisturized, legs were shaved and moisturized, hair was flipped, curled, flipped back to the way it was before, crumpled, crimped, straightened and recurled.

And the damn doorbell rang before any of it was finished.

He looked, well, fantastic. Almost exactly as I had remembered but a little better looking, as if he had grown into his distinctive features. He smelled...oh...wow (KatSlater, you would be proud) and suddenly I felt very awkward, nervous, and just plain...inadequate. This boy, I had decided in that moment, was too good looking for me.

I showed him the house; he whistled. He showed me his new car; I laughed. We ate dinner, we met his dogs, we watched a movie, we talked, and talked, and talked.

It was lovely.

There was hand-holding and a kisses, but nothing tawdry or cheap, but just...right.

Dammit.

Just when I thought it was safe to be crushing on somebody...this happens. So he emails me and calls and tells me he had a great time, when am I available again, blah, and then Lefty storms into my classroom this morning (during my English 9 class), motions me over to the door, gets cheek to cheek with me and whispers, "Hey B, you look amazing today. Happy Thursday." Kisses me on the cheek and walks away.

I tell you what: this is going to be the best Christmas EVER.

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