Yesterday was move in day. It was fun. I spent most of my evening out with my family and, when I got back, with M. Paff. He and I went to Target in his Mercedes convertible and it was nice, but sometimes I would feel the urge to stroke his hand…or his face…or just touch him in general, you know? I know it’s not normal for one best friend to feel that one about the other, but it’s the truth.
Then today, he helps me get my internet set up, but we fail miserably. We keep going to my room and his room and back again. In my room, I tease him by putting my feet near his face, in his line of sight. He’s definitely affected by that. Then, later, he puts his hand on my knee while we’re talking. Then in his room, while I’m lying in his bed, watching him go on Facebook…scratch that…falling asleep while he goes on Facebook, and he keeps rubbing my shoulders to wake me up. I don’t know, but I feel like he’s trying to get a reaction out of me, so I tell him to stop it.
I feel like it’s hard to get intimate unless you break the touch barrier first. Break it too suddenly, and I get freaked out. I guess you just have to ease into it.
Then we grab lunch and go back to his hall and play ping pong. It’s fun; and he’s cute; and I’m his best friend. God.
After that, we go back to my room to give the internet thing another try. We get bored cause it doesn’t work, so I ask if he wants to give me a foot massage. I’ve never seen a human being book out of a room so fast. I’m just like, “Okay? What the heck?” Then I take a nap and wake up very depressed and lonely. I take a walk and go up to the common room just out of curiosity and meet a bunch of people there. Then the whole hall gets dinner, and I get to know Mlle. Nguyen better. She’s cool and cute; I like her. M. Paff and I’ve seen her earlier in the day and helped her carry her stuff back, and she’s asked if we were just friends; we’d said that we were.
I seriously don’t know how I feel about M. Paff. We’re supposed to be best friends, which means I’m not supposed to be this attracted to him. But I am. I’m very attracted, but he’s not attracted to me—not one bit. He tells me that he’s been getting close with this one girl in his hall, and I’m kind of sad about it, but I don’t know why. Okay, I lied. I do know why. I want him to want me back too.
Anyways, I bond with some of my suitemates. They’re really nice and pretty and cool. Then the whole hall has a meeting and we all go to this one boba place. Except me and Mlle. Nguyen RUN over to M. Paff’s room and drag him out with us since he’s in there all by himself. We three go, and it’s fun. Then we decide to go back instead of waiting for the rest of my hall, but Mlle. Nguyen says to go ahead because she’s found her other friends, so it’s just me and M. Paff. We’re high on sugar, so we’re pushing each other off of curbs and cutting each other off. Then we get to his dorm and the sugar crashes. So it’s just me, leaning against the wall, and him, sitting on his bed, and me wanting him to come and sit next to me like he did a few minutes ago. We look at each other once and he says that what I asked him to do was really mean. I’m like, “What are you talking about?” and he’s like, “before you went and took a nap…” and I’m like, “I thought I was being nice!” and he’s like, “No, that’s very mean,” but apparently, he was so turned on, he had to check if it was showing, which explains why he got out of my room so fast. He comes and sits by me; our shoulders are touching for a while, but nothing really goes on. We just talk. At some point, I feel like he wants to make a move, but he wants me to initiate it. Actually, I think he did make a move if I’m not reading too much into it. Once is when he rubs my shoulder, but I’m under the impression he’s trying to get something on my cardigan; it’s clean. Then…when we’re sitting really close next to each other, he puts his hand on my thigh, but the door’s open, so I don’t do anything.
I don’t know. Sometimes I want to be more than friends; sometimes I’m just perfectly content with being just friends.
I ask him to walk me back when it gets late. He doesn’t want to because he’s a pussy. We argue for a while and I’m just like, “Fuck it,” and leave. On my way back, I meet this other white guy, and I’m just like, “Hey, is everyone back?” trying to be friendly, and he’s like, “Yeah, but we’re going out again.” I’m like, “Ooh, where to?” and he goes, “A party. You wanna come?” I’m like, “Sure.” Then I call M. Paff and he says not to go, but I go anyways.
It’s boring; people just smoke weed; the music’s barely audible; so the bunch of us leaves and comes back to campus, where M. Paff tells me that M. Kee, this boy who thinks I’m really hot, thinks I’m in love with M. Paff. Of all the people who suspect that we’re together, I think M. Kee has more or less the right idea. Everyone else thinks it’s him that’s in love with me.
I wish. Really.
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