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Sometimes I like to close my eyes and imagine what it'll be like if you were here. It's been a week since I got to know but when I think of you, and you and you, there's this story that I think should be told.
It goes like this:
We're at a game. The school game. The last of the season. The lacrosse team is playing a shite game. But we're cheering anyway. At least our friends are. I'm busy with my camera. I'm too busy taking pictures for the schools newspaper to realize that we're losing. You look like you need a break. You're bored. So bored that you're braiding Jasper's hair.
I turn to take pictures of the crowd. The happy crowd. The happy crowd. The crowd cheering on its team. Not you. Or Jasper. He'd just ruin my shot and Mrs Dougle would reprimand me for such a crap shot. I can't risk it.
Ellie's on her phone. Texting, I think but I don't really care. The seat next to you is free. Chloe was sitting there. She went to the bathroom or something so it's free. You sigh. There's a gust of vapor that is released.
Jasper is next to the empty seat and I'd be lying if I said I had been staring in that direction for you. His hair's all over his face and his trench coat is way too snazzy for an event like this. His lips are turned down. He's not enjoying this. I can tell. He always hated sports. Watching, playing, criticizing. He hates all that. I remember too much. It's over.
But tell me, did he miss me back then? Did he? I felt like he did sometimes. Most times. But then again, I felt like he didn't too. He sweeps his hair to the opposite side in the most awkward way imaginable. It's cute. It's not. I hate him. I love him.
The game is still going on. I'm taking pictures of the opposing team. They look to be having more fun than we are. There's a girl, with blue hair. And tons of makeup. And wing eyeliner. And this blue black shape of lipstick. She's freaky in an attractive sort of way. Or attractive in a freaky sort of way. I don't know which one but she looks so fake, that for a minute I think she's the realest person out here.
She's sat next to a girl who doesn't hold my attention. Jasper always complained about this. About how I noticed too much and judged too quickly. He called it cute for the first half of our relationship but, after a while it just got old. I became the girl who trashes everyone she sees. I became the girl who complains about everything. I became the girl who talked about everything but focused on nothing.
