Can I Say It? | Teen Ink

Can I Say It?

January 17, 2011
By MythicWeaver BRONZE, Hampton Bays, New York
MythicWeaver BRONZE, Hampton Bays, New York
2 articles 0 photos 22 comments

Favorite Quote:
There is no such thing as coincidence, there is only the inevitable

I came out of the shower, flopped on the bed, and just lay there, thinking about the day. As usual, these thoughts were more focused around HIM than my actual day. I moved my hands back and forth along my flowery comforter, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric beneath my hands.

I sighed, sat up, and ran my hand through my damp hair. I glanced to the right to check how I looked in the mirror. An average girl looked back at me. How could he like someone like me? I sighed again, leaned over, and pulled my computer onto my lap from my shelf. I played with the silicone covering for a while, letting my fingers slide along the smooth yet sticky surface.

I opened up the laptop and checked my email. A message from this girl Cassie. Why would I get a message from her? Cassie was one of the most popular girls in school. Why would she message someone like me. I opened up the email and read it.

Isabella. Back off Jack, he’s mine. He would never like a nobody like you anyway. So many people have so much more of a chance with him. If I ever catch you talking with him again, you’re going to pay.

I stared at the message for a few seconds in complete shock. I barely knew her, and she barely knew me, yet here she is, sending me a nice little email. And honestly, how are we NOT supposed to talk? We’ve been best friends for years, and she expects me to just end that because she wants me to? Yeah right. And yeah... I know other people have more of a chance with him, and that I’m probably not the best one for him... but still...

I groaned, put my laptop back on its place on the self, flopped down, and tried to fall asleep, feeling little tears rolling down my face.


Ugh. School again. What’s my motivation? Oh yeah. Seeing HER. The way her hair gets blown around by the breeze, and how the tip of her nose gets bright red in the cold. The way her cheeks turn so pleasantly pink when she’s embarrassed. It’s all I can do to not reach out and touch a strand of her soft auburn hair.

I sat up and groaned. What Isabella does to me. She probably doesn’t even like me either. She could get any guy in the whole school, I mean, I think she’s prettier than Cassie, by FAR. And speaking of Cassie, she’s been throwing herself on me every time she sees me. So annoying.

After stumbling out of bed, showering, getting dressed, eating, and brushing my teeth, I sent Isabella a text message. “Walking over there soon, get ready.” We walked to the bus stop every morning together. It is so perfect, walking next to each other in all kinds of weather, joking around. And of course, spending more time with her.

I messed around with my tossed hair a bit, then grabbed a jacket, shouldered my backpack, and went out the door. Isabella’s house was diagonal to mine, and I was further down from the bus stop, so we always met at her house. Sure enough, by the time I walked out there, she was walking out the door. She looked so cute today, it made my heart ache. A simple purple hat on her auburn hair, a brown scarf over her black jacket, dark blue jeans, black boots, and her black school backpack. Framed by the snow, she was picture perfect. Like always. As she walked closer, I noticed her eyes were red. Alarmed, I called out “Hey, Isabella, are you ok? You’re eyes are all red?” She had been looking down before, but she looked up, and seeing me she smiled. My heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah... I’m fine, Jack.”

“Um, are you sure? No problems? Boys?” I said the last part teasingly, but I really wanted to know.

She smiled sadly at me. “I suppose you could say its boys...” I froze. There was someone else. Should I tell her I’m here for her? That I like her? That I’ve liked her for a while.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. Can I say it? “Look, Isabella.” I looked away. “I just want you to know... I’m here for you. I care about you because...” I can’t say it “I’m your friend. And, you know, that’s what friends do, right?”

Isabella had been looking down again, but she looked up when I looked at her. She smiled sadly again and said “Yeah. It’s what friends do.”

I mentally punched myself. Why didn’t I have the guts to tell her?


“Look, Isabella... I just want you to know... I’m here for you. I care about you because...” I froze and began to flush. Because what? I mean... he could just say its because we are friends, right? I mean, honestly, what are the chances of him liking someone like me? Look at him. He’s perfection. Dirty blonde hair, tousled, but still looking gorgeous. His eyes are so intense that you have to actually make yourself focus to tell what color they are (dark gray-blue). A red jacket that clung to his body, showing off his muscles, blue jeans, sneakers. It’s no wonder Cassie has her eye on him.

“I care about you because... I’m your friend. And, you know, that’s what friends do, right?” Of course... Just friends. I knew it already... but the way he said it...

I looked up at him, and tried to smile. “Yeah. It’s what friends do.”

Should I tell him I like him. But... I don’t want to ruin our friendship either. But.. it’s getting... so HARD now... I don’t even know how I talk around him anymore. But can I say it? I think I’ll have to tell him... but it’ll have to wait. After school maybe?

“Hey Jack... I have something to tell you after school, ok?”

He looked startled. So cute. “Um, yeah, it’s fine. I, uh, actually have something to tell you too...” His voice trailed off as he looked down, embarrassed. Oh no. It’s a girl. He’s going to tell me about the girl he likes. He’s been mentioning he for a while now... I guess I’ll still have to let him know. Get it off my chest. But will I be able to stay it? Or will I just make up some lie, to save myself?

The author's comments:
Based off sooo many things... story line is actually off my friend's life... but.. there are some things in there that I've experienced. Getting an email like that stinks.

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