8: The Thought Always Counts

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A week had passed, Fhac and I continue to meet up and talk about stuff. I forgot about the things she and I used to share to each other, again, these all happened back in 2007.

Fhac was my first love. I told her that, and she smiled then blushed. She told me that she was glad that she met me. She told me that I was fun and I always had topics to discuss with. I was her favourite person to talk to. I swear she told me that.

I was so in love with her. And I kept telling her that. She knew how much I wanted her. But she kept smiling it away. She kept telling me that I was too young for her, but I really didn't care.

"Are you still not into me?" I asked Fhac, displaying my puppy eye look. She and I were seated on our usual spot.

"Nope." She shook her head.

"Why?"

"Because I have a girlfriend," she replied briefly.

"Why?"

"Why what?" she looked at me intently, trying to figure out what my question meant.

"Why do you have a girlfriend?"

"I don't know."

"Why?"

She was quiet. And I shifted to another topic.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"I was... admiring your lips," she said reluctantly, but it was the truth. I just knew it.

"Will you date me when I turn 18?"

"If I remain single..." she responded.

"Am I being annoying?"

"Sort of," said Fhac then chuckled. "Kidding."

"Do you like me?"

Fhac fell silent. She was gathering her thoughts. Perhaps thinking about the appropriate words to tell me. She was so polite. She didn't want to hurt my feelings. "Hmmm," was all she muttered.

"Not even a tiny bit of crush on me?"

She squinted, "Well..."

"Well?" I lean in closer to her, anticipating her answer.

"Yeah, a bit."

"Really?! Are you serious?!" my hopeful heart was pounding so fast. I actually had a chance on her. I thought I was going to cry. I was excited and nervous at the same time. "How many percent?"

"What? L-O-L. You are being silly!" she scoffed then blushed.

"Ten percent?" I asked in eagerness.

She shook her head.

"Twenty-five percent?" I asked her once more.

Again, she shook her head, she was smiling this time.

"Ah, I know, fifty percent?"

"You are so weird," Fhac chuckled.

"Seventy-five?"

"Nope."

"I know, 99.9 percent?"

Fhac giggled in amusement. Her face was burning, I could see it. She couldn't stop smiling, "No."

"It must be 100 percent, I just know it," I said.

"No, you silly!" She was still smiling like crazy. "It's more like 0.01 percent."

Oh. I was disappointed. I immediately looked away from her. Ouch. Then I realized that Fhac was slightly mean. I thought she had a little something on me. I was expecting more or less seventy-five percent. I mean, we had been hanging out for weeks. What the hell, I thought.

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