Cliché

Creep

Christina

After I got home, I was still in a daze. I went into the kitchen and washed up some carrots and got ranch as a snack and went up to my room.

Seeing as to I haven't gotten around to studying much, I pulled out my math book and began reviewing.

Shocking, right?

I lasted about 30 minutes until I felt my eyes starting to close. With a yawn, I closed my book and pushed it away to the side of my bed.

And before I knew it, my eyes closed involuntarily and I drifted off.

- - - - -

TAP, TAP, TAP.

I was still deep in my sleep, and at first I thought it was just my imagination playing tricks on me.

Then, I heard it again.

TAP, TAP, TAP.

I groaned and prayed that it would stop. And it did.

Ah, peace and quiet once again.

TAP, TAP, TAP.

I sat up and groaned loudly. Was someone throwing rocks at my window?

What kind of idiot would do such thing at 8 in the evening?

Getting up while muttering incoherent things, I made my way to the window.

Blake.

Blake was standing on my lawn, throwing stones at my window.

I rubbed my eyes, hoping that I was still dreaming, but when I opened my eyes again, he was still standing there.

Why can't the universe be on my side for once?

As cliche as this was, I couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt in my chest.

I was still hurting even though it happened 6 years ago.

I should let it go, I should. And believe me, I tried. I told myself that I will not think about him anymore, but he still managed to wiggle his way into my thoughts.

Looking down at him, I felt all the memories coming back.

The way his dimples showed when he smiled, the boyish grin he always used, the way he could wear a simple tee-shirt and still looked hot, the way his brown hair was swept to the side, the way his eyes twinkled even in the dark, or even his muscles that flexed every time he pulled his hand through his hair.

Oh, God. I was probably staring at him like the last hotdog at a campfire.

Quickly, I shifted my eyes to his and have him a questioning glance.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" I asked.

"I just wanted to talk to you." he replied.

"I told you earlier, I don't want to talk to you." I replied.

"I know, but...can we just talk?" he asked.

"No." I replied simply.

"Please?" he asked, a pleading tone laced into his voice.

"No, Blake." I said.

"Oh come on, don't make me pull the puppy dog trick." he warned.

Darn it, the puppy dog trick.

You see, when we were kids, when he wanted something and I said no, he would make his eyes look like a pleading puppy. And I always found it impossible to turn him down. His eyes were just so....mesmerizing.