"What's your name again?"
"Jamie."
"Jamie. Right." He looked at me, his emerald eyes sparkling like they always do. He was standing at the edge of my bed, putting on his pants, then reached for his shirt that was hanging at the back of my study chair. I was lying on my bed, my entire body covered in sheets but nothing underneath. He buttoned his shirt, fixed his hair a bit, then kissed me on the forehead. He tried to make his way to my window without making any noise. "I'll call you.", he said, then jumped out my window. I put on my robe and peeked at my window, while I watched him run quietly out our lawn. I took a deep sigh and told him, "You didn't even get my number", as if he could still hear me.
What the fuck did I just do? Or maybe the better question is, who the fuck did I just do?
I did Jack Ramirez, or maybe he did me. And that's not the way things should work out. I'm not the person for him. Not when he's your typical golden boy, while I'm just a sucky freshman.
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