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When I open it up, I realize it’s not. At least, I don’t think so. I have absolutely no idea since there is no name signed to it. I look around, but there is no one in sight. What the hell?
Chapter 3
*Love Interest*
I can’t believe Marjorie Madden actually knows how I feel about her. Well, I assume she knows. That is, if she found the note in her locker. I have no way of knowing since she has no way of writing back to me, since she doesn’t actually know it’s me who has these feelings.
Why did I do that? How did I somehow convince myself that it was the right thing to do? I remember exactly what did it though. It was that smile. A smile that deserves to be on that face as much as possible.
Did my note make her smile though or did it just freak her out? Oh God, I hadn’t even thought of that before now. What if she just thinks I’m a creep? What if she’s worried that she has a stalker?
I sit down at my desk and begin writing again.
I hope my note didn’t freak you out. I promise I’m not some creepy stalker. I’m not even sure why I gave you that note other than the fact that I wanted to try to put a smile on your face. I want to make sure you know how special you are. That really doesn’t make me sound any less creepy though, does it?
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that. I promise I won’t bother you anymore. Stay beautiful, Marjorie Madden. This world can use more people like you.
I put the note in my pocket, so I can show Bug when he comes over in a few minutes. It’s Friday night and neither of us feel like doing anything, so we decided to have a scary movie marathon.
As soon as Bug arrives, I have him read the note to see what he thinks. He reads it slowly and carefully before folding it back up and focusing his attention on me. “It looks good. You know I support you no matter what you decide, and I’m always willing to help.”
That’s Bug. He always has been and always will be my biggest supporter, aside from my mom, of course. Knowing I have his support is the only encouragement I need. “I want to give it to her.”
Bug nods in understanding. “I got you.”
We let the subject of Marjorie drop and discuss what movies we want to watch. After way too much deliberation, we decide on Halloween, starting with the original movie from 1978, then going on to Halloween (2018) and Halloween Kills. We also discuss going back to Halloween II if we still have energy, but I have no question Bug will pass out by the middle of the second movie. Since we’ve been friends forever and our parents clearly know there is nothing going on between us, Bug and I often end up sleeping over at each other’s houses.
As predicted, we’re not even an hour into the second movie when I hear Bug snoring beside me. I turn off the movie so we can continue to watch it tomorrow since neither of us work. I grab a blanket from our coat closet and throw it on top of him then head up to bed. I know if he wakes up and has enough energy, he’ll join me since my queen bed is more than big enough for both of us.
When I wake up Saturday morning, Bug isn’t beside me. I walk downstairs expecting to find him still snoring on the couch, but instead he’s in the kitchen making bacon and eggs.
He turns around and waves the spatula at me with a big smile on his face. “I thought I would make breakfast for my two favorite women.”
I can’t hold back a yawn as I search around the kitchen. “Where’s my mom? There’s no way she’s still sleeping.”
Bug shakes his head and turns back toward the stove. “She’s not. She had to run a few errands. Said she’d make us breakfast when she gets back, but since I was awake with nothing to do, I wanted to help out. She works too hard.”
You’re telling me. Bug is way too sweet. Sometimes I wish I could just make myself have feelings for him. He knows everything about me and still loves me just the same. He’s the perfect gentleman and the kind of guy a parent would love for their kid to bring home. I’m also extremely comfortable around him. But that’s exactly the problem. I’m comfortable around him in the same way I would be around a family member (if I had any good ones other than my mom). He doesn’t make my heart beat faster and my palms sweat the way Marjorie does. I wouldn’t say these reactions are the most comfortable, but it’s an exciting kind of discomfort. The kind of discomfort I want to keep feeling. A discomfort that I want to bathe myself in.
“You’re right about that,” I say as I take a seat at the kitchen table. “Need any help with that?”
“Nope, I’m good. Almost done.” Bug doesn’t even turn around as he answers my question, clearly in the cooking zone. “Want to shoot some hoops after we eat?”
“Sure.” The truth is, I actually don’t want to for multiple reasons, the main one being that I’ll end up thinking about Marjorie the whole time. “Didn’t you want to finish the movies though?”
Bug carries a plate of bacon and a bowl of eggs over to the table. “Of course. I figured we could watch a little while we eat then go out and move around a bit before coming back in to watch the rest. Sound good?”
“Sounds great.”
As if sensing the hesitation in my voice, Bug tries (and fails) to lift an eyebrow at me. “Are you still thinking about that note?”
I nod, which isn’t a lie because I’ve been thinking about it ever since I wrote it.
Bug puts everything down and holds his fist out to me. “Don’t worry. We’ve got this. Okay?”
“Okay.” I knock my fist against his. I sure hope he’s right.
Chapter 4
