14 | femme fatale

3.3K 219 85
                                    

The first time I'd ever seen Jem was when Emmie, Heather, and I went to Kahala Mall one day instead of school because we were convinced we could be rebellious teenagers, even though we'd eventually go to school the next morning with the realizatio...

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

The first time I'd ever seen Jem was when Emmie, Heather, and I went to Kahala Mall one day instead of school because we were convinced we could be rebellious teenagers, even though we'd eventually go to school the next morning with the realization we'd all somehow missed pop quizzes. Needless to say, it was the last time we'd ditched together, but we'd run into Jem at the Jamba Juice counter so it was all worth it in the end.

Jem was all autumn rays and wishful thinking. She was quiet but comforting, sweet with a playful bite, and brilliant but sensitive. She was also fiercely protective and passionate, and that's why I knew she would've made a good fit in DC if she had decided to go to Georgetown instead of UH. As I sat by the foot of her twin-sized dorm bed, I was reminded of how special she was. Even if she considered herself the forgettable one of our trio of friends, Emmie and I both knew she'd change the world.

"Did you text her back?" I picked through the bag of Munchies for cheese puffs. "Two hours should be good."

Jem scrunched her face together before looking down at her untouched phone, the screen dark. "Are you sure? I don't wanna look too needy."

I didn't know why she was asking me for advice about this in the first place. Not only was I allergic to relationships and flirting, but I was also notoriously bad at replying to text messages. Knowing me, if I'd been in her situation, I would have legitimately just forgotten to reply. She was better off just taking a stance and going for it. Whether she realized it or not, Jem wasn't someone most interested parties ever turned down. More often than not, she was oblivious to how many people wanted to ask her out.

I moved to grab her phone but she yanked it out of reach. "What is with you baby gays and being nervous about texting back too quickly? I'd be offended if I found out you purposely kept me waiting."

"Wow, so many things to unpack with that one," she huffed, "most important being the fact that it is not just baby gays that do this. Hetero folk are the most insufferable when it comes to chasing each other. Also, you wouldn't have to worry about me keeping you waiting because I'm not interested in you—"

She couldn't finish her sentence because she was too busy dodging the cheese puff I'd thrown her way.

"Seriously," I continued, "it's been long enough, just text her back."

Jem looked at me with uncertainty before bringing her phone back around to punch out her reply. She'd met a girl at a poetry reading on her floor last week and they'd been flirting ever since. Why she was nervous about a girl she'd met at a poetry reading of all places, I wasn't sure. I didn't even know why she was at a poetry reading in the first place. Jem had never been interested in poetry before in her life.

"I don't understand how you do it," she said once she placed the phone back down. "The whole dating thing."

I looked at her like she'd grown two heads. "I don't date, what are you talking about?"

Waves of UsWhere stories live. Discover now