maybeeee, a short story i wrote Options

[piney]

just one of those short stories i wrote in sixth grade last year...


Maybe he just said no because he was too embarrassed to admit he liked me in front of everyone. Maybe.
Or maybe he really doesn’t like me and I’m just a dreamer who is crazy over one boy and can’t get over the fact that he doesn’t like me. Maybe.
Or possibly he loves me and meant to say yes but for some reason the words came out “no” because maybe in his world it was opposite day. Well….maybe….
Or maybe he did like me before but because my friend asked him if he liked me he didn’t like me any more for me wanting to know so bad and being impatient. Just maybe.
But being impatient for what? To go out?
I really want to go out with him. Last time we went out, we didn’t talk as much as we did before we went out. But now it’s a year later, and maybe its reverse psychology. Maybe because we don’t talk now it means that when we go out we won’t be shy of each other.
Too many maybes…I just want a yes or a no. Well, just a yes. Not a no. But he’s so hot and popular, and theres probably a line of girls waiting to go out with him. Maybe he’ll say yes, and ill feel like the most specialist girl in the world. Or he could say no, and I’ll be sad. But I’ll never stop liking him.
Never.
I don’t only like him because he’s hot, he shops at the stores I like, and because he is popular, but because he is a really nice kid and he’s pretty smart and funny. He’s in advanced math.
But how can there be a guy so perfect? A guy with perfect skin, perfect blonde hair, a perfect sense of humor….everything? There has to be something negative with him. He has to have a downside for every brightside he has, like what my dad says.
Maybe his downside is that he has a hard time choosing the right girl. But when he has his girl, and it’s obvious he’s chosen the right one, then what’ll happen? What will be his downside then? Maybe he’ll start doing drugs and ruin his life. Maybe he’ll grow pimples all over his face and no one will talk to him because its hard to talk to someone without looking at them. Unless you’re on the phone of course.
Good Idea, me. The Phone. Maybe I could call him.
But then he’ll think that I like him. But I do like him. Its just hard that I see him everyday, and evertime after I tell him I like him I look at him my face will turn as red as a cherry and my words will come one like what Lindsay called “word vomit” in the Movie Mean Girls. I like that movie. Its funny everytime you watch it, even though you have heard the funny sayings already.
Okay, I’m getting off topic. I need to call him. But what would I say?
Hi, Its me. Is this you? I have a crush on you, a mass giant crush the size of a glacier. I’ve liked you for three years now, and I still liked you even when we broke up.
Word vomit again.
I shouldn’t call him. That would be too weird again. But his face is so cute…maybe the reason I couldn’t talk to him last year when we were going out was because his cute face distracted me. If I’m on the phone, I won’t be able to see his face. It will be like talking to anybody.
But it’s different than talking to anybody. It’s much different then talking to your best friend on the phone. Much Different.
Maybe I could fake my identity. I could call him and say it was one of my friends, maybe. Then I wouldn’t be so nervous.
But theres two problems with that. One, my friends will be mad that I said it was them, and two, because he won’t actually get to talk to the real me.
Three, because if I happenen to say something good or funny he won’t know it was really me who said it.
And theres another. Because it will still come out as word vomit because I know I’m talking to him.
Maybe in my head, I could pretend he was someone else. Like one of my guy friends or something..

All these problems, and only one brightside; that I get to talk to him. The downsides weigh down the one puny brightside.
It’s not worth it.
I need a way I can talk to him, be myself, yet not be afraid or have word vomit come out. Or worse, vomit, like what happened to Lindsay when she said the wrong thing to Aaron.
A-hah. I could write him a not. It would say something like “Hi. Its me, Is this you? I was just wondering if you wanted to go out with me. Because I have a huge crush on you the size of a glacier.
No, that sounds too much like what I was planning to say on the phone. Maybe I could just write him a simple letter that said. “Hey, will you go out with me?”
But he’d have to know it was me. That was the embarrassing part, and its true with any guy someone likes. Whenever you ask a guy out, theres always a moment of embarrassment when you actually say “Will you go out with me?” becasye theres a 5o percent chance that they will say no.
I could write him a letter. It would say “Will you go out with me?” then I’d write, “Put this on the chalkboard ledge when you’re done reading it and have a reply.”
Yes. That would work.

So on Friday, First period. I threw him the note. It was in the shape of a chili pepper and my writing was big and loopy. It was on a sheet of loose leaf apper, and when I threw it to him it was crumbled up in a tiny tiny ball the size of a pea.
I threw it up really high, and It landed on his desk. It was so tiny that no one could see it. He sits in one corner of the room, and I sit in the other, and I managed to throw it to him high enough so no one could see and in the perfect place. Those skills I learned from my 6 years of basketball finally come in handy.
I spun around, and looked all over the room for someone looking at him. I could feel his eyes burn a hole through me, but I pretended I was finishing my health packet.
At the end of the day, I saw the tiny note sitting on the chalkboard ledge. He had put it on the black eraser, actually, because I wouldn’t be able to see the tiny thing if he had set in on the white chalkboard ledge. Told u he was smart.
I was excited.
No, scared.
No, anxious.
I was becoming impatient with myself. I managed to open it, but ripped it in half with my trembling fingers when I held it up to read his reply.
I ripped up the two halves and looked at each. On one side, there was half a heart. On the other, There was the other half. I had ripped the paper where there happened to be a heart. How cute and coincidental.
I was becoming impatient with myself again. I squinted my eyes and read the writing beside the right half of the heart.
It said, in neat, curvy handwriting, YES.
How did he know it was me?
I figured it out when he came up to me as I was stuffing the note in my pocket. He said, “Nice smiley faces.”
I knew how he knew it was me. I was probably the only person in the class who dotted there I’s with smiley faces.
I looked at him. He looked at me. Then he said, “Ok I have to go. Bye.”
He talked!
And then came the word vomit. What should I say?
“Okay, same, bye.” I sputtered.
Hey, that wasn’t so bad.