A F F E C T I O N

n i n e

I'm wearing hooker lipstick. You would've laughed, kindly of course, if we were still a we. It's red and dark and conspicuous and Kennedy's. She can pull off hooker lipstick.

I wait, pretending to talk to Kennedy in the stacks of the library, until you mosey away from him. Christian. I feel like a hunter and it is making me uncomfortable.

Do you remember when we spent an entire day watching girl comedians on YouTube? One girl, the only one I clearly remember, talked about how the girls are the hunters and the guys are the prey... then she baaed like a sheep which I don't think was related. That's what I feel like, sans sheep noises.

"Go get him," she shoves me and I teeter on the over-the-knee slouchy boots I'm wearing. I hear Annabel giggle to you across the library which steels my resolve.

Christian is kneeling in front of a row of World War One books, and a strip of skin shows between his rucked t-shirt and track pants. I've always liked track pants.

You're wearing track pants today.

"Hey, Christian." I say, and he peers up at me with brilliant green eyes from beneath long eyelashes. His mahogany hair is gelled up away from his face attractively. He's cute. I can do this.

"Hi, Caro." All of his friends call me Caro. All of mine call me Caro, I guess my full name is awkward. Caro-lina. "What's up?"

I blink at him. The only thing I can think of are crappy pickup lines and animal noises (not that kind, like a sheep. I need to stop watching YouTube videos).

"Hey boy, you wanna seize this day because carpe dayum." I say it with the sexy southern accent I perfected at nine; I hear Kennedy's snort from behind the books.

He stares up at me. Bewildered. Pleasantly bewildered, I hope. His mouth stretches into a smile. His lips are a very dark pink. Kissable enough.

"If it's with you, I'd do anything." I grin down at him, he grins up at me.

"Dude, we're..." whatever we're doing is lost when you sees us. You stare, hazel eyes wide, eyebrows crumpled. I can practically see the gears turning smoothly in your head. She steps up beside you and pulls on your arm possessively. She's wearing a yellow crop top with a pair of hideous short short overalls. I make it a point to never wear something that can be mistaken for a farmer's outfit.

"Riel?" Christian looks at you questioningly.

"Uh, we're getting coffee, wanna come?"

"Nah, I've gotta study." Christian tells him. I lean casually on the bookshelf, skillfully disguising the stomach-eating-itself feeling inside me.

You leave, and Christian arches an eyebrow. "So..."

"I like studying." I swear, it's the most sultry my voice has ever been. The eyebrow asks: are you serious? My eyebrow says: it'll be fun.

This was a horrible plan. I imagine you heckling all the way to your Toyota because you saw through my transparency.

Then I imagine you shaking your head instead, because you're mature and you think games are for children.

I try again, to hate you.

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1.08k reads and this just started??thanks danke merci.