I’ve decided I’m spending way too much time writing about boys. My mom told me once that some girls my age become OBSESSED with boys. I do not want to be one of those girls. I have other things going on in my life–Jamball and the school basketball team, learning web design, homework, helping Jill make good fashion decisions, hanging out with Rosie and keeping up with her ten thousand relatives. And these are all important things.
This morning some girl from my English class was crying in the bathroom. Her friend was standing next to her, patting her back. Here was the conversation:
CRYING GIRL: He wouldn’t even look at me in the hall.
FRIEND: Did you say something?
CRYING GIRL: No! He’s obviously mad at me. I don’t know what I did.
FRIEND: I don’t think you did anything. Maybe he didn’t see you.
CRYING GIRL: How could he not see me? I was right there in the hall with all the other people.
I do not want to become Crying Girl, analyzing every little move and gesture a guy might make. It will drive me crazy. I mean, just because Tyler told me “Great game” at lunch doesn’t mean he likes me. Why do girls make such a big deal out of these things?
I do wonder if Tyler likes me though. I mean, would he come all the way over to our table to say that if he didn’t? He could have just waited until he
saw me in class or in the hall but he made a special effort at lunch to walk across the cafeteria and–
OMG. I’m doing it. I’m analyzing. Interpreting. Am I obsessed? Quick, give me a basketball!