The Bathroom Stall

The Bathroom Stall|Note Fifty

Note Fifty

Dear Bathroom Stall

I like this guy and I think he likes me in return. The problem is, he's always around other girls. All the time. So I can never tell if he's really genuine or just playing with me. He hasn't asked anyone to Homecoming yet, so I'm really hoping I'm the one he's planning on asking. But what should I say if he does ask, since he's always really too friendly with other girls and I'm just not comfortable with that?

~Sarah

I leaned my head against the bathroom door, probably one of the nastiest things I could have done, considering the fact that this was a bathroom. The smell of Sharpie was pungent and bitter, so with a sigh, I capped my marker.

There were at least five or six new notes on the Bathroom door since I last checked yesterday afternoon before I went to Starbucks with Sam, all questions that I just couldn't answer.

My mind flashed back to the instant that Terrence had walked in with his hand around some girl's waist. The second he saw me, since I stood up loudly, with an audible screech of my chair, he dropped his arm as if her butt was on fire, and scotched at least a foot away from the girl. All I could do was roll my eyes, and discreetly flip him off. Of course he saw.

So how the hell was I supposed to answer the girl's note? I had already brought my own life into some of these answers, using my prejudice to give these girls advice. I wasn't about to tell 'Sarah' to meet him at Starbucks and flip him off.

Dammit.