Nowhere In Particular // H.S.

Two: Irresistibility

Laurel once told me her secret on how she gets boys to like her. She explained that there are three important tiers of her theory and together they make you irresistible.

One, have a good sense of humor. Not just humor though, it's not enough to simply tell jokes that have been repeated over and over for decades. Be witty, be charming, reel the boy in with no choice but to laugh while showing him that you have a brain underneath the pretty head of hair.

Two, be confident. Sure, sometimes a boy likes a shy girl. Sometimes they like a little bit of a challenge in getting inside her head. Confidence however will keep them interested. According to Laurel nothing is sexier than a girl with confidence. So hide away the insecurities and what you can't push under the rug, you make a joke of.

Three, invest in a very lacy Victoria Secret pushup bra.

The difference between me and Laurel is that this theory actually works for her. She's naturally funny, naturally quick with her words, naturally exudes confidence. The pushup bra isn't even necessary in her case. Me, I struggle with all three tiers.

Sitting next to this boy on the bus, him still asleep from the night on the road, I remember Laurel's formula to being irresistible. Until this moment I never even bothered to try it out, knowing my clumsy steps and bumbling words would automatically ruin its potential. Now though I try to decide if maybe she's on to something, now I want to be irresistible to this boy slouched in the seat next to me, who let me use his lap as a pillow and ran his fingers through my hair all night. I want him to think I'm funny, and confident, and Victoria Secret pushup bra material.

I look down to my chest, noticing the flatness, the black sports bra doing nothing to aid it. Victoria Secret model status is obviously not going to be attainable.

I rack my brain of every clever thing I could possibly say to him when he opens his eyes. I try to think of any clever thing I've ever said in my life. I'm at a complete loss. I'm not witty or humorous. I can barely tell a knock-knock joke without messing up the punchline.

The only thing left is confidence, something that I've never been particularly stellar at. Even if I'm fairly content with how my physical appearance looks, even if I'm fairly content with most aspects of how I deal with life, confidence will always be this wall that I can't fully reach the top of. But as I stare at the boy next to me I decide this is my only option left at this point. So I will fake it as much as I can until it becomes true, trick him into thinking that I'm sure of myself like Laurel has been her entire life.

It's morning now. I have been awake for at least an hour, alternating between staring out the window as the sun begins to light the world and staring at the boy next to me whose breathing has almost hypnotized me.

I didn't mean to fall back asleep after I woke up with my head in his lap. I only meant to stay for a moment longer then readjust my position with my head against the window rather than against him. Despite convincing myself not to stay any longer, his hands in my hair kept me on his lap, relaxing me until I was back in a deep sleep. And it was such a deep sleep that no other bumps in the road woke me up for the rest of the night.

I pull my knees to my chest, resting my head on them while looking at the boy sleeping next to me. The bus isn't very full at the moment. A good number of people got off at the last stop and not very many joined us. It's almost silent as the majority of other people are still sleeping, or quietly occupying themselves. Our next stop is in an hour, somewhere in California, and I need to decide if I'm staying on this bus or finding a new one before we get there.

I wonder where he's going.

Almost as if on cue, as I'm thinking about him, he opens his eyes. I watch him as he blinks rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the brightness of the bus now that's it's nearly daylight. He groans as he stretches his arms above his head, leaning to the side closer to the walkway. I go to open my mouth to say something, to start out this confidence streak, but nothing comes out.