I stare at you, wishing you were mine. You with your long black hair. So soft it would make any girl swoon. Ecept for her, she likes dread heads. I don't, I like your hair. Soft and shiny, a beautiful dark black. It matches your tan skin and dark brown eyes. I sit in class, bored half to death, but thinking of you. I doodle your name in my nootebook. You middle name of course, no one knows that but me. So luckily, I'm safe. Safe from everyone but you, that is. But I don't woory about you. You never pay any attention to me anyways. I'm supposed to be your best friend, but, but you never pay attention to me! We'll talk on the phone for hours but not very much at school. I lay on my bed on my stomach, feet up in the air, reading my favorite magazine. My phone rings and I pick it up and hear screaming. It's your lttle brother. 7 years old and as loud as he could even be. We talk for a little bit, I continue reading. I really do love you, but you don't know. I wish you knew that I'M the one who really loves you, not her. I want to tell you but I just don't know what to do. I remember back when you asked me if I would slap you if you kissed me. Then you finally did, on the last day of school. I was fine with it, but I thought back to when I wished you were mine. I thought, that was an amazing kiss, but oh how I wish you had done back when I wished you were mine. Back when I loved you. Back when you actually were with her.