heart eyes

(not) more than friends

Entry for the weekly wallflower_r writing contest
Word count: 506

I am Carolina Carter and I do not like Sophia Park.

I don't love the way her hair sits on her shoulders when she wears it down, or the way you can see the blonde streaks contrasting her dark locks when she puts it in a ponytail.

I don't love how she never quits, always playing her hardest during basketball games, or the way the determination in her eyes sets the rest of the world on fire until I can only see her, burning.

I don't constantly think about her deep brown eyes, the ones that everyone else envies, the ones she thinks are boring, and I don't tell her that they're not, and can something be boring if I could spend hours looking into them?

I don't love her lips, full and bright pink, or the way she chews them when she's nervous. I don't fantasize about them. I don't think about kissing them until pink turns to red, and everything else disappears. I really don't.

I don't love her confidence, how nothing seems to faze her, or the way she lifts everyone else up. I don't love the way she faces everything head on, never letting fear get the best of her.

I don't try my best to make her happy, to make her laugh, to keep her near me. I don't, because I, Carolina Carter, definitely don't like Sophia Park.

I don't admire her freedom, the way she runs, or how I thought she'd never stop, never come back to this town that somehow doesn't seem to hold her back.

I don't wish we were more than friends. I don't go places because she asks me to come with her. I don't hold my breath when she calls me. I don't ask her to go out as friends, and certainly not as more than that.

I don't think about it because I don't like her.

I don't want to buy her flowers and take her on dates. I don't want to make fun of bad movies with her on my couch, or watch the entire thing anyway because it makes her laugh.

I don't want to make her the happiest girl in the world, and I don't want to make her mine. I don't want to hold her hand, or kiss her, or keep her safe, or anything romantic, because I do not like her.

I don't listen to every song she texts me, or send twice as many back. I don't tell her to talk about something, anything, because her voice calms me down.

I don't turn the music down in the car so she doesn't notice just so I can hear her hauntingly beautiful voice over the radio.

I don't wish everyday that she was gay, or that she could kiss me without getting drunk.

It only happened once, but I'm not in deep. I don't think about it constantly. I don't even wonder why I liked it so much.

And I most definitely didn't kiss her back.