Ideale

A Story by Kuuughjoe

Accurate portrayal of a confession

The class is empty, dry, cold. With plastic, grey tables arranged in threes, with three arrangements in a row, with three rows. Aligned with just enough care that 24 17-year-olds could collectively muster for its arrangement. The clock ticks silently, taking its sweet time as a forced spectator. The lights hold their breath, brightness seeping in only through the windows to catch a glimpse of the scene.

The boy finally opens his mouth.

“...I’ve liked you since June, and I just want to know if you’d be my girlfriend...”

Ah s**t, she’s going quiet. Come on, don’t make this any harder than it has to be, think of what I’m going through here!

“Guess you weren’t really expecting this, huh. The girl I said I liked this whole time, was you…”

…

Is she gonna open her damn mou- “I’m sorry, but I don’t see you that way.”

Yeah, I figured.

“Yeah, I figured.”

Time resumes its pace, prying its eyes free from the momentary entertainment. Ambience takes its leave, sighing in disappointment at the boring conclusion.

“Then why did you ask anyway? That’s kind of dumb in my opinion, like just shooting yourself in the foot.”

B***h, do you not understand a teenage boy’s heart?!

“I owed it to myself. I’ve been holding this off since before the exams and I need closure to this. Even if I already know what’s going to happen.”

I can’t just leave it like this.

“Do you, like anyone? I know you keep saying that you’ve never fallen in love or had a crush, but frankly, I’ve never believed it.”

YOU F*****G IDIOT STOP SHOOTING YOURSELF IN THE FOOT YOUABSOLUTEFUC-

“Are you sure? I don’t think you want to know-”

“Is it Nelson? You guys have gotten... pretty close lately. I see you guys laughing and talking and hanging out all the time…” “It’s Nelson isn’t it.” “I can see you blushing.” “Oh my God it’s totally Nelson, just kill me.”

“Don’t tell him.”

Yeah, f**k you.

“I’m sorry, but this is so awkward. You’re not my type, but we can still be friends.”

“Yeah… Sure, that’d be cool haha…”

Yeah, f**k you.

“Sweet, now that we are done here...I’m just going to leave, if you don’t mind.”

Seeing that smile of hers has never incited me with such contempt.

You b***h, if you’re disgusted, angry or whatever I don’t care, just don’t bring that phony expression to me.

Don’t you dare show me that expression again, that fake-a*s smile, because it isn’t hers.

It’s not.

The girl turns her back to the boy, bending her tall, slender figure to pick up her bag of blotched, black and purple. The door opens, the outside light beams against her objectively 4/10 face.

The door sneers at the pony-tailed perpetrator of its neglected closing.

The boy slumps into the welcoming embrace of the tiles.

His legs, one laying, one bent up.

“and I actually thought I had a chance...” “I’m such an idiot...”

The boy yet again, starts to cry over his failure, but no one has to know.