"Just look at David and laugh. He'll think you're talking about him," Floyd says to me quietly, smiling mischievously. He sits in front of me, turned in his chair, his elbow resting on my desk. David sits beside me, working diligently on his French assignment.
I smile back and nod. Floyd gestures for me to lean closer, so I do, and his lips are right beside my ear. He pauses for a moment, then cracks up a little before whispering, "Just laugh." And we both burst into perfectly staged laughter, staring at David. After a few more minutes of this, David is obviously annoyed with us.
"What?" he snaps, rolling his eyes.
"Nothing," we reply in unison. I want to tell him that it's a joke, and I'm only playing along because I like when Floyd whispers in my ear. But I don't. His annoyance wears off and he simply ignores us. The moment passes, but I still feel Floyd's breath on my ear, giving me chills.
Now, I can still feel it.
I can still feel myself bringing my hands up to my face on the bus home one day and smelling his scent there, and the way I smiled and breathed it in. I can still feel his eyes burning through mine, the way it made me buzz with electricity, the sparks that I hadn't even realized were flying. I can still hear him singing "Away From The Sun" with me in Shop class, and I can still feel our hands brushing together as we built our bridge. I can still remember the way we exchanged a glance after our bridge collapsed, a small smile on both of our faces. Oh well. The teacher had asked us if we worked well together, and he had replied with, "Of course. She did everything I told her to," but flashed me a smile to let me know he was joking. I can still hear the beginning of a song by The Offspring he had played for me in French class. "My friend's got a girlfriend and he hates that bitch, he tells me every day…" I had laughed out loud, then went through more songs he had saved on his Blackberry, pleased to find that many of them matched my own taste in music. I can still hear him rapping his fingers on his laptop to the beat of whatever song he was listening to, the sound sharp and loud like a snare drum. I can still feel his body beside mine, how I would think that only one touch would break an invisible wall between us, the last wall that still stood. One touch. If only it could be intentional.
He sits beside me, talking to Elaine at lunch. Bored while I wait for our row of tables to be called up, I pull out my computer. He watches, a smirk on his face, as I open my Super Mario Bros. game to pass the time. He meets my gaze silently, and he waits. After I begin playing, he hums the Mario theme song dramatically, and presses his fingers on top of mine, making it hard to control what I'm doing in the game. I laugh until there are tears in my eyes, but then he makes me fall into a hole, and with fake anger I growl, "Floyd! I hate you!" He sits back and laughs, and I'm sad to feel the warmth of his hands leave mine.
But now, all of those moments feel far away. I feel like I'm losing them. I feel like they're slipping away from me. I feel like he's slipping away from me, one little piece at a time. His fiery eyes, his breath against my ear, his hands brushing against mine, his brutal honesty always working in my favor. It isn't disappearing. It's just as if the intensity is fading. Now, I feel like we're just friends. Weren't we just friends before I told him how I felt? Nothing had seemed to change. But did it?
Is he drifting away, or am I pushing him away myself, out of the sadness his rejection left ringing in my head? That sadness that made me shake with sobs, as I listened to the same depressing songs on repeat until I had them memorized. The sadness is like a voice in my head, whispering, "You were right. It's over now. He doesn't love you. He never will. No one will." It stings me when I see him treating other girls the way he had once treated me, and that voice whispers in my head, making it hard to smile back at him when he meets my gaze, making it hard to take his side. Making it hard to want to please him. I don't owe him anything.
I always thought that was all we were the entire time, just friends.
I never even noticed the sparks until they started to burn out.
Is this my fault?
