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10 years ago. 12 years old.
Elle is talking to a guy. No, she's not just talking to him, he's flirting with her. And she's flirting with him.
He's kinda popular at our school, I think, with the whole blonde hair blue eye look. And I'm having none of it.
I feel my cheeks grow hot as I stare at them, my anger boiling inside me. But I can't stop them. I can't.
He places a hand on her shoulder, rubbing over it twice while he winks at her.
Stupid guy, I can wink, too.
She smiles widely at him, moving her hand to touch his fluffed up hair while I stand in the corner watching them like a sulky baby.
Elle makes him blush as I watch his cheeks grow rosy, looking as enamoured as one can be.
She knows damn well what she's doing, taking sneak peeks at me in the corner of her eye to see if I'm watching.
She was just mad that I stole her pancakes from our breakfast this morning, and she's taking it out on poor jealous old me.
When he moves his hand to the back of her head, running his hand through her hair, I decide that enough is enough!
"Stop it," I grumble at the blondie, plucking his arm off her. "Keep your hands off of her!" I growl.
He looks down at me, his ocean blue eyes narrowing as he chuckles at me.
"Why should I listen to you, shortie?" he teases, making my anger boil up even more.
"I'm her best friend!" I yell. "And I'm not even short, I'm average height for a guy my age. I'm just a late bloomer. You-you're just freakishly tall!"
"Your best friend is taller than you, you little dwarf. And she's a girl!" he replied, Elle shaking her head at him.
"Why does that even matter if I'm a girl?" Elle questioned, her eyebrow raised at him. "He's still my best friend no matter his height."
"You're taller than him. It looks weird," the blonde commented, his tone mocking.
"We're not dating or anything, and even if we were it wouldn't matter. But we're not dating," she clarified, and I internally glared at her.
"So he wouldn't mind it if we kissed? If we dated?" the flirt asked, stroking a hand up her arm.
"First of all, we're thirteen years old, we can't fuckin' kiss or whatever; please do not stick your tongue down my throat," Elle said to him. "Second of all, he's my best friend, not my boyfriend, so no it shouldn't matter."
