They looked at her then at me and mumbled: 'Look at that fine specimen sitting there with that monster. Look at those sweet dimples in her cheeks, her nauseatingly beautiful eyes, her perfectly fitting shirt. Not to mention her shiny hair and disarming smile. What's she doing with her? "
She approached me in the middle of the street and asked me out. At that time it seemed particularly flattering, the following days mainly food for ever-expanding uncertain thoughts that till tonight kept nibbling on my mind. She is far too pretty for me, right? When I purposely arrive at the restaurant ten minutes late she was not there. The monster of uncertainty declared it a victory.
But she appeared! I felt envious glances pierce my body and I shone because I was on a date with a girl like that. It proved that ordinary girls with belly fat and saggy hair, could land a princess. And that I was a girl that you could not just let go by, a girl you would spontaneously speak to in the streets. she did laugh a bit overly sweet and loved just about every joke i tried to make. She even said she was so glad to have met me. That was something a little suspicious, so I decided to put her through a little test; I told her that I actually lived 210 miles away. In Brockville. Until that moment I still had some hope she was serious. That she had actually fallen for my light gray eyes and my gentle personality. That there might even be the possibility of a kiss .
She replied that the next time we could perhaps meet in Brockville.
There it was, confirmation that this whole scene was a bad joke. A bet with her friends. A pity party. She did not mean it, not really, it was too absurd. I could not believe it. I did not want to be the girl that would be frantically looking at her phone for days, hoping that she finally called. So I told her my most embarrassing stories, extensively picked my nose and stretched myself out several times, so she had a good view of the gigantic water stains under my arms. Because if she started to loathe me, no longer pretend to like everything about me, she would maybe reject me sooner. And perhaps then it would hurt me less.
Only that rejection never came. I wondered if I should tell her that i had figured out what she was doing. That she could stop playing this game. That I really do understand that she, in all of her sumptuousness , is not really interested in a girl like me.
Suddenly I feel something on my hand. It is her hand.
"I think it's really nice that you came here all the way from Brockville , you know?"
I look into her beautiful dark green eyes. She means it. FUCK, she really means it.
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