My cheeks felt hot, and my fingers became a little sweaty. I resisted the urge to run my fingers through my hair. I strode softly right past her seeming casual with my friends, sneaking glances secretly. They started to giggle quietly and gave me a shove like they always do whenever we see Zara.
Zara is so fantastic. She is tall. She is popular. She is also not too skinny or fat, and more athletic than other girls. She laughs in the coolest way, and she is so casual all the time. She has all the same classes as me this year, and she went to the same elementary school as me, so we know each other well.
As I walked into my science class, I drowned out Mrs. Cooke as she gave her speech about the upcoming lab. My mind drifted from my next classes to my leadership projects, and then got stuck on the next dance, which was in a week. I shouldn't, should I? It’s going to be all over the school, but who cares. NO. I can’t do it.
The talk around the school for “Sevies and trolls” was all about the dance, and almost everyone was asking someone out (Sevies are seventh graders, and trolls are eighth). I didn’t know if I should, should I ask Zara out to the dance? I walked around the school with my friends, and they weren’t helping me doubt.
“Ask her out, Devin, who can say no to you?” Bryan said. “NO, but she is different from all of the others,” I exclaimed. “Do it, Do it, Do it, Do it,” they chanted together, and after another ten minutes, I gave up to them. You can do it, man, just go up to her and ask her, and if she says no then just leave, or something.
As I quietly strolled up to her I realized that all of her friends were right next to her. Why are girls always in groups, why can’t they just hang out alone for sometimes, or even just walk to a class alone? My feet slowly began to cushion their landings, and my heart was pumping fast. My hands felt awkward and my mind began racing to find a neutral position for them.
As I started to doubt, I looked back and saw my friends cheering quietly like it was an intense gladiator match. Her friends swiveled their heads towards me, as I tiptoed towards them, trying not to draw attention. It was such a hot day. She was looking so nice. I was looking like an idiot. Time slowed down. I felt so paranoid, nervous. Confused. Mislead. But the best feeling about it all is that when I looked back at her, she was already staring at me at me.
“I was wondering if you would like to come to the dance with me or something…?”