All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
After school we walked down the road like we always did. Both of us were the quiet type, most of the time at least. We rarely discussed it. It was a routine practically. We met at the bookstore, talked about our favorite stories, looked at the records, got in heated debates over whether it was Nirvana or Pearl Jam that defined the grunge rock movement in the 90s, ate food, walked back, hugged and said goodbye, and that was it. We’d see each other nearly every day. Our friends always laughed and made jokes about how we’d get married one day. I’m not sure exactly when it was, but at some point, I stopped feeling like they were jokes.
The night before, we were texting when I admitted I had feelings for him. My shy romantic nature wasn’t the only thing that made it nearly impossible. This was also due to the fact that we were such close, best friends. The thought of loosing him as a friend to my own feelings made me sick to my stomach at the time. The only reason I was able to, was because both of us never kept anything from each other. It was a law to our friendship. I instantly regretted sending the text message the second I did. Although, I wasn’t stuck in my own sea of shame for very long. The response took less than a few seconds. They were seven words I read over and over again with such blissful shock I don’t think that I’ll ever forget them.
? So now, walking along the rows of books, which we had done so often we had practically memorized each and every title. It had never felt so nerve wrecking. Moments of silence were practically uncommon between us, but for the first time, neither of us could usher a word. Until he picked up Harry Potter, and began creating small talk.
“I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover from the last book. I’d fully convinced myself Snape was absolute filth. But then, suddenly, it’s a completely different ballgame.” He explained. “It’s just that with a writer like JK Rowling, You never know what’s next, it’s all plot twists and whatnot. I always found myself contradicted. I love that.”
Wow, most of my favorite books had that quality. I thought to myself. “I agree. It’s really admirable when books have that. Too much isn’t good, but a plot twist here and there spices up the story so much.”
It took a bit, but we started talking like we always did. We walked and laughed, argued and agreed, and made our way near the back of the library, where people typically didn’t go. (Not many people knew it was there.) Although, we had both accidentally discovered it that summer, there was a beautiful garden, and lots of flowers growing upon the walls. It was the definition of paradise if you ask me. We sat there for a bit.
“Are you going to the Arctic Monkey’s concert in July?” He inquired. “They’re so talented. I just miss when they did their small, forty dollar shows at City walk. It’s probably two hundred for nosebleed seats.”?
I found myself only half listening to what he was saying. Surely we had walked back here for a reason. “Well, actually I think The Neighbourhood is going on tour around the same time. I’m going to that instead. It’s a small venue. Jesse Rutherford seems like a really good performer. You should go too. I always see you listening to their album on my Spotify feed.” Oh God, that sounded SO creepy.
“I don’t care how many times I hear it, Sweater Weather has literally been my jam for over a year.” He said, laughing and brushing his hair out of eyes. He reached for his phone and started playing it.
“No, I completely agree, that part where he slows down, it’s so cleverly written musically. I learned how to play it on guitar. My neighbors hate me probably, I play it ALL the time.” I don’t remember exactly how, but our conversation died down and I put my head on his shoulder. He played with my hair and acted nonchalant but I could hear his heartbeat. It was very fast. And in that second, I realized he was just as nervous as I was. I didn’t think either of us had it in us to try to kiss. We listened to our favorite song, “Sweater Weather”.
The rest was quite a bit of a rush, we stood up at the same time once the song slowed down. He pulled my close, and going by my instinct, nothing else, I kissed him. Nothing else existed in that moment. I just remember thinking. Woah, This is happening. Right now. This is actually happening, we are kissing. The second I pulled away, my brain was on overdrive. We sat down again, and didn’t talk until the song was over. Although, it was a nice sort of quiet. Right after, my Dad called me and I had to go. I stood up to leave, and I was stopped.
“Hey, I love you. Okay? See you soon.”