Today I'm going to talk about a subject that's both relevant and near and dear to all our hearts. (Does it still count as both if there's three items?) That is... boys.
Yes. Whether they come from another planet or are merely bizarre, it doesn't matter. We still love them and hate them in equal measures. We dissect their smallest sentences (does 'Hey' count as a sentence? In that mysterious language known as 'Teen Boy' it seems to have many meanings, some still unknown) and their briefest smiles. And yet... they never seem to notice us. (I can't be the only one who attracts only weirdos. Or maybe I just have a sign stuck to my back saying, "I love freaks!")
Example: Friday. The scene: French class. (Yes, despite going to a French school I have French class. You have English class, don't you?) The lightbulbs have just burnt out, as has the computer screen. (It was too bad... we were watching a fascinating documentary on waffle making, too!) I and a (very cute, non-freak... I think) person of the male persuasion are sitting in the class, alone, side by side, in the dark. A perfect moment for...
Origami, apparently. He just pulled out a piece of paper and started folding, leaving me staring with my mouth wide open.
Sometimes being the good girl is a good thing. On one hand, it means that teachers are comfortable leaving me alone with a member of the opposite sex in a room with no lights. Sometimes it just means that nothing ever happens. On the other, it means that absolutely nothing happens in the aforementioned dark room.
I mean, really?
It's a darkened room. There's no adult supervision. I'm not completely hideous (at least, not once I've put on my blue mascara. It is a thing of beauty). What more are you waiting for, a written invitation? Dearest sir, Miss Zia hereby requests you to take liberties. I smiled. I leaned closer. I winked. (It is only now that I realise the wink may have been a bit much. Maybe that's why he gave me a puzzled look and asked if there was something in my eye.) And yet... Nothing happened.
Oh well. If no romance, at least I got a beautiful little fish out of the deal. (Ok, so he didn't give it to me... I stole it from his desk. Whatever.) The worst part? This isn't even an April Fool's joke.