By the Lake.
I stood there, watching him as he threw stones across the lake. I was leaning against a tree, completely content in the bright sunlight. It was just the two of us in a grassy meadow by a large blue-green lake.
I always loved it when I came here, because I always came here with him, and it was often just the two of us, and when it wasn't- well, when it wasn't, I was still with him. Still in his presence.
But he didn't know how I felt. Not in four years have I ever told him how I felt. I've always kept our relationship more or less the same. Friends. Just friends. Admittedly, I've allowed space for our friendship to grow. Sometimes one just can't resist temptation.
I remember how we met. How we detested each other. I was always a little weird. I own a Harley, after all, and my hair bands are made of chains, and he was always a little afraid of change. Well, who isn't? That's partly the reason why I didn't like him. We didn't like each other because we liked each other. Does that make sense? No, it doesn't to me either. But sometimes, that's how things end up working out, isn't it?
I think that, if it wasn't for his sister, we would have never had become friends. She was one of the first friends I had in my new school, and I guess she found something similar in him and me. So, being the pesky creature she is, she made absolutely sure that we spent as much time together as possible. We hated her so much. When we became friends she admitted that the reason she kept on poking was because us hating her only brought us closer together. And now, well now we're the best of friends and I, well
"I love you," I say quietly, barely even audible to myself. This is the first time I've said it out loud, ever. And suddenly, it seems so much more real to me. Especially now that he's turning around. Oh, God, what have I done?
"What'd you say?" Oh good, he didn't hear.
"Nothing," I say, putting a smile on my face. It's fake though. A part of me wishes that he did hear. Even though he doesn't feel the same way. I walk over to the lake.
"Yes you did. You said something. But what?" He looks at me, giving me a curious glance. I pick up a rock, remaining silent, with a small smile on my face. He looks at me a little closer. I get ready to throw my rock. In one swift motion I feel his hand on my chin, his mouth on mine.
"I love you too," he whispers.
I might have hated her before but sometimes though, I really do like his sister a lot. I throw the rock.
I have no idea what the crap that was. Just so you know.