If you've read all the previous parts of this book (which I believe are only about two in total?) then you might've already figured it out that calling this My epic love story is a great use of sarcasm and nothing else than that.
You see, around six months ago I met a boy.
He's three years older than me (meaning he's over 18 and I'm under 18. Scandalous, I know), is about to move to the USA to attend a school there on a scholarship, is annoyingly smart and has a case of a well defined abdomen (in other words: a raging six pack).
At first, I didn't think much of him other than the fact he was pretty damn cute.
Then, the flirting began.
Mainly on his behalf though, considering I have no idea how to flirt and am oblivious to every sign of romantic interest a guy might show me.
Anyways, fast forwarding through endless teasing and reaching #1 on each other's best friend snap chat list - there came a day where his attraction towards me was confirmed (through a ten second snap chat of course).
Earlier that fateful evening I had gotten a ride with him home. When he had parked in front of my house, he casually leaned backwards in his seat and looked over to me. That's when I felt it. The mood. The mood that hints that something was about to happen. Something that people that are more than friends do. A kiss was about to happen, a kiss that I would share with my hot co-worker.
But, since I am who I am, I quickly muttered a "good bye" and tumbled out of his car before he could even begin to lean in.
When I had reached the safety of my bedroom, I convinced myself that I had only been imagining things - surely he was not about to kiss me?
A minute later I received a snap from him telling me that he had planned on kissing me but I had left before he had the chance.
So, that was the first time I rejected a kiss from him.
Note: The first time.
(spoiler: they're three in total.)
(possibly just two, I'm not sure if the last one counts.)
My response to his snap that night was "Oh, well I wouldn't have stopped you if you had." which later I regretted because stopping him was exactly what I did a week later when we were walking home from our shift together and he stopped me in the middle of the way to kiss me.
In the middle of our way.
Middle.
I remember this moment very vividly: I was joking about getting lost in the hood of my brand new jacket because it's so big that I can't really see if I put it on. Suddenly his hand was on my arm as he said, "Stop for a moment."
He then reached for my hood and made a poor attempt of tugging it down (my hair was in a bun so it got stuck) which resulted in me swatting his hands away and taking it off myself.
It was all super romantic.
Then, he leaned in. When the boy was mere three inches away from my face, my mind finally realized what was going on and my hand shot up to block the kiss that was about to happen as I jerked my head back.
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The pure confusion on his face will forever be tattooed in my memory.
Lets remind ourselves that this happened in the middle of the way to our homes (he lives on the street below mine so we walk the same way) which meant that we still had 7 minutes left of walking together... after I had dodged a kiss from him.
Obviously, I couldn't just say that I had panicked because I had never kissed a boy before (I felt like that was lame), so instead I told him that I had a rule. Oh, the rule.
It goes like this:
I won't kiss a boy until after at least one successful date.
This earned me the responsibility of having to ask him on a date (which took me three weeks to do).
Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is a story for another time...
