A Series of Letters to My Very Straight Crush

November 10, 2017

Dear Belinda,

MacKenzie came up with the idea to throw a party while her parents were at some convention. She said it was about time we all blew off some steam. Despite the dropping temperatures, it seemed like the whole class showed up.

I could barely move without getting twerked on, but I stayed because it was MacKenzie's get-together and I didn't want to be rude. Nevertheless, I hid away in the corner of her living room with all the other wallflowers sipping away at their drinks.

The only time I left my spot was to refill my cup, but as I made my way to the table full of snacks and drinks, I could smell the alcohol in the air. I immediately turned into the kitchen for something non-alcoholic to drink but stopped mid-stride when I saw Joey...

Except he was locking lips with a blonde girl that definitely was not you.

MacKenzie was standing by the sink, shooting daggers Joey and the blonde girl's way. I made my way over to her, averting my eyes from the make-out session. Before I could say anything to her she told me that you deserved it. That you abandoned your best friends that were there since Pre-K just for a guy and this was karma for that.

I didn't think she meant it, but then she turned to me with teary, bloodshot eyes and a stench gripping onto her skin and clothes. Before I could console her, she marched out the kitchen.

I decided I was going to go the rest of the night thirsty as I left the kitchen to find Rebelle or Rebecca to tell them about Joey and Drunk MacKenzie.

On my search for one of the two girls, I ran into you.

Or rather you fell onto me.

I steadied you as you giggled like an idiot. Your words were slurred as you greeted me, but still intelligible enough.

My nose twitched at the smell of alcohol all over you and judging by how strong the odor was, I figured right then and there was the best time to stop you from doing something you might regret. I took you by your arm and guided you up the stairs.

I opened the door to one of the bedrooms, assuming it was a guest room. You immediately stumbled over to the bed and plopped down on it. As I leaned against the locked door, you patted the space next to you. When I shook my head, a pout appeared on your face.

Despite it being a drunken pout, I still felt guilty for some reason.

Then, your pout turned back to a smile as you made your way over to me. My nose was inches from yours as you took your hands in mine.

Although I tried not to show it, the close proximity fazed me more than I liked to admit. If nervousness was a scent, it would have been all over me and filled the whole room.

I didn't breathe as you leaned in, my lips touching yours. It was soft - almost innocent - before you made it aggressive; like our lips were in a fight for dominance.

And for some reason, I felt myself giving in to it.

Before I could comprehend what you were doing, you let go of my hands, cupped my face and forced your tongue against mine. The bitter taste in your mouth surprised me but didn't stop me.

I placed my trembling hands on your waist, but the moment I did that, you moved them down to your hips and before I knew it, we were doing some weird waddle-waltz to the bed.

You ended up straddling me, peppering my face and neck with alcoholic kisses. I found myself paralyzed under you. You were drunk off of Hennessy, but I was drunk off of you.

But I immediately sobered up when your hands began to fiddle with the buttons on my jeans.

I pushed you off of me and stood. I could see tears threatening to seep from your eyelids as you shut them tight, just laying on the bed.

You covered your eyes with your forearm and the only thing that filled the room was the sound of music under our feet.

You let out a sob and I cringed, knowing I was the reason for that. I shoved my hands into my pockets and stood there uncomfortably. I didn't know what to say after I just basically rejected the girl that I had been drawn to since September.

You broke the silence between us when you said, "I knew it."

I asked you what you knew and you went on a tirade explaining to me that you never liked Joey the way you liked me and you knew I would never like you and this was proof. The day you met me, you thought that I was the prettiest person in the world and when the dance was announced you were so excited, hoping that I would ask you - at least as a friend or something. Then, as the days passed you were tired of waiting, so when Joey asked you, you couldn't say yes fast enough. He was cute and you knew your distance would have warranted an explanation and made me jealous, but I never came over to you and asked what was up.

While you were with Joey, you never felt comfortable. Despite the smile you had on your face when you were around him, you hated him. He only hung around his teammates, never paying you any mind except when it was convenient for him. In spite of not having feelings for him, it was still a shock to you when he told you he was dating a girl named Madison. He raved about her being this cute blonde and how she was all around better than you.

You knew the drinks were spiked, but you drank anyway, telling yourself that maybe you could forget your insecurities for a night.

The whole time, I was standing there with my eyes narrowed and lips pursed. I never thought you would have felt that way about me. Frankly, I wanted to jump on you and tell you that I loved you with all my heart, but I also wanted to cry and tell you that what you did was stupider than stupid. If there's a word for it, then that's what your plan was.

But I did neither.

You looked up at me and asked if I hated you. When I didn't answer, I could see your heart physically sink into the pit of your stomach. I didn't reply because I didn't know what to say to you. I just couldn't believe that you did all that for my attention.

You had it all along.

I had left the room without another word. Of course, I wanted to stay and be with you, but you were drunk and definitely not in the right mindset. Honestly, I wasn't either after your boozy confession.

I walked down the stairs, all my energy left in the room with you and to be honest, I didn't feel like trying to get it back.

The party was seemingly just heating up when I got downstairs, with a large group of people playing spin the bottle. I decided that the heat of the party wasn't for me and took a chill outside.

Unfortunately for me, a chill outside ended up turning into a frigid walk home.

Away from your warmth.

Sincerely,

Delilah

Your thoughts and comments are appreciated, guys. It helps me improve as a writer. Make sure to vote if you liked this letter.

-- TG123