Passing Notes In Class

Date: 5th Feb To: The Boy On The Last Bench,

I’d really like to know your name. So that I can request you to get out of my head. Thank you. Sincerely, The Girl In The Front Row PS: You see, I like you a little. A lot. Basically I’m drowning and I hate the water. I think about you sometimes. And by sometimes I mean all the time. Aap samajh rahe ho na ki I’m respectfully fucked?

PPS: I did try to make the first move by bringing you the notes from class last week, but luckily I found my brain right outside your dorm and came back to reality.

I cannot physically handle logging into any more Astrology sites that I don’t even believe in because they’ll tell me how to attract a Scorpio Male, Rising sign Leo, Moon sign– don’t ask me how I figured these out. Apparently, I live for this shit now. This does not include the hours I spent trying to find that one song that’s your ringtone after it accidentally went off in class. I hum it all the bloody time now. And lately I’m nearly always zoning out when the professor talks. Ever since that ungodly day when you walked in to class, sauntered past my desk and left that stupid Marlboro smell in your wake. I hate boys who smoke. Hate them!

Hate them so much I’m writing to one.

Please get out of my heart, you have no right to be in there. Kindly do everything that makes you look, ugly, vulgar, and/or perverse. A combo of all three would be most ideal. Quit holding the door for me, quit running your hand through your hair, quit everything. Go vegan, do Crossfit, force us to listen to music that sounds like a Nutribullet chewing on rusty nails. Have a goddamn flaw. I’m begging you.

PPPS: No wait, I want to know your name and ask why have you stopped liking peanut butter Snickers? That was the only thing we had in common. I always let you slip in before me at the vending machine so you could have the last one, but then you stopped choosing it.

I’m never actually going to send you this note. But I will keep it in my drawer and whenever I’m about to melt at that stupid grin of yours, I’ll re-read it, cringe and go back to my regular life.

Getting black out drunk tonight.

-x-

Date: 6th Feb

To: The Girl In The Front Row

Hey Aquarius, did you sleep out in the street?

Mikhail

Ps: I know you like peanut butter Snickers too.

Pps: You really need to sign out of your sessions in the library. Astrology.com is the worst.

Ppps: I've heard big breakfasts are the best cure for a hangover. Wanna do breakfast after the lecture?

For Terribly Tiny Tales (2018)