I wait for a message from you. I guess I shouldn't wait. It was really just one long conversation about whatever we could think of. We each took turns coming up with the most random thing we could. Just so we could keep talking. Talking. Talking for hours, laughing and talking. I wish we could talk more. I wonder what Monday will be like. I wonder if I will go back to my shy self. You say I'm quiet. That's one thing you talked about. You talked about me, and I talked about you. The friends that I was sitting with joined in every now and then, but let us talk. I hope we can still talk like we did then. Probably not. Some people say we were flirting. I think we might have been. But then again people say you flirt with everyone. What makes me different. You couldn't like me. You probably like her, my friend, the one that everyone likes. I mean she's kind and pretty. I consider myself both of those things, but I'm not as gorgeous or as generous as her. I wait. I wish I could only work up the courage to message you.