How Did the Two of You Meet?

The first day of ninth grade. I lied, it was actually the second day of ninth grade. He didn't come to school much. He came late that day.

People were asking about him since yesterday. "Where is he? Did he come to school today?" "I miss him. I want to see him." I had barely thought about it. If it wasn't anyone I knew, there was no reason for me to think about it.

I find it funny and ironic how uninterested I was at the time. When he first came in, I thought, "He's cute." Short black hair, strong jaw, high cheeks. He had dark hair that contrasted nicely with his white, fair skin. He's short; hes cute. My character at the time told me that there was no reason for me to continue beyond "he's cute". I was a changed person, and I refused to be the same girl I was in middle school who obsessed over boys that didn't think about her.

That same period, we were paired up for introductory games. Me, him, Jasmine. I remember vividly. He spoke to me, and he was pretty nice, very sarcastic, but I did not think beyond this.

He was in and out of school often. For the first two years of us knowing each other, he was just barely here. He was here enough for us to become best friends, he was gone long enough for me to miss him.

We were alike in so many ways. Our friendship began because of our sarcasm and witty insults. When we spent more time together (we just happened to be sat next to each other in every class for two years) we learned of each other's interests and how alike we were. Video games, anime, other general interests. Then, we became comfortable. He was my best friend.

Our favorite past times were going over theories of some of our favorite shows. The other was attempting to insult each other in the wittiest way possible, making each other laugh. We began to talk outside of school, on social media.

Feelings steadily began to grow, I believe mine was first, considering how fragile I was at the time. After having a terrible first relationship, what I had to fall back on was him. You can imagine how his love penetrated the cracks in my shell.

There was things. Signs, hints.

There were touches: his hand on my thigh under the table, random moments of hand holding-- "What are we?" -- indirect kisses (water bottles and chap stick), soft touches on my hips and waist, subtle and almost non-existent (or maybe I just couldn't tell the difference) flirting over text, pet names and "i care about you"s, protectiveness, jealousy even, maybe, I don't know.

December (2015) was when it changed. I know now it was because of the feelings overwhelming him, feelings of uncertainty and fear of being rejected. Half a year later, nothing but isolation and hurt. Insults with none of the wit, stolen glances with every once of longing and hurt.

After I had gone to college for two months, he messaged me for the first time in several months. We argued, yelled but confessions were made and feelings were out. We talked and talked, for as long as I could find signal and as long as I finished my work. When I came back to the city, he asked to meet up, I was petrified and refused.

Coming back into school brought a burst of feelings and heat. My best friend was back with a little add on, and it was great. September was the month that settled things. 09-12-16. And from there on we are currently living it. We've given each other my first most things, and I've given him his first everything.

Its currently 02-02-18, and it's been so much more different than what I (didn't) picture back in 2013.