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A short story about a guy at my school who I am really close to. Or was.
Katherine Gehl Donovan
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (2)
My Voice, My Song (Songs) This song is about how I want and need to sing, but my parents always come up with excuses for me not to. [119 words] [Teenage]
Only For A Moment (Songs) For over a year, I have been in love with this guy, and finally I wrote him a letter (stupid move) which my friend gave to him (bad move! bad, bad, BAD move!!)which revealed my innermost feelings for ... [137 words] [Romance]
Katherine Gehl Donovan
"Just give me a few weeks to cool off, and. . ." Mike paused, searching for the right
words. " . . .And then we can be friends again, okay?" he looked at me for an answer. I long-
ed to say those three words to him, but I know that he won't respond well to my true feelings at
this point, so I just nod.
"Okay." Mike said, in the tone that said that this conversation was over. He nodded to
himself, and his black shoulder-length hair fell into his face, covering his silver-rimmed
glasses. I looked at his shirt, realizing for the first time that his black leather trench
coat was in a heap in the corner, and his black "Slipknot" shirt was in full view. I won't
say it. I can't.
"Uh . .Mike?" I asked timidly. "Would it . . .would it be alright if I hugged you? Or do
you need to cool off first?" He looks at me with a blank expression on his face. His green
"I don't give hugs to anyone anymore. I don't want people that close to me." He answers
calmly. My heart is screaming at me now, but my brain stays firm. I WILL NOT TELL HIM THAT
I LOVE HIM!! Oh God, it's so hard . . .
"Okay. Well I won't bug you. Just come to me when you're over it, okay?" I ask. He nods,
and stares at my picture once more, a soft smile plays on his face. I sigh, and walk down the
carpeted hall toward the elevator. I hope he gets over it soon.
* * *
When I was in seventh grade, young and innocent, (…right….) I had a friend. Well, a lot of
friends,actually, but right now, we're focusing on one friend. Nicole Martins. We were really close
and told each other everything! Oh, and we both shared an obsession. Harry Potter. No, no, no we
were not obsessed over the stupid little boy that J.K. Rowling formed in her mind. There was a guy
in 10th grade that looked uncannily like Harry Potter, but with brown hair. But, he was more like a
dark version of Harry Potter. Dark as in black trench coat, patches on the coat saying "Legally
Insane", and other things. Well, anyways, we followed him around and called him Harry Potter and
just drove him nuts! It was quite entertaining, but he didn't think so. I can't imagine why; we
only called out to him in the halls, taped signs up that read, "We love Harry Potter! (a.k.a. Mike
Keiting)", wrote "We love Harry Potter" on our hands and Notebooks and everything. When he threw
some change at us in attempt to make us leave (false hope, I must say), Nicole saved a dime and now
treasures it to this day. I spent the quarter, though. We stalked him and took I-zone pictures of
him at lunch . . . I just can't imagine why we got annoying!
I was having a terrible day, and Harry came up to me, clad in a shirt bearing the words,
"The Crow" and his unbuttoned black trench coat.
"I hear you've had a bad day. Would you like a hug?" he asked, showing no emotion. Was I
hearing right? Here am I, his stalker, and he is offering me a hug because my day sucked?
"Sure!" I answer, blinking. He opens his arms and comes toward me, and actually gives me a
"Uh . . thanks!" I say, unsure of what to do.
"You're welcome. Now go away." He says. I walk away, dazed. I saw Nicole, and ran to her
and told her the whole story. She pouted and said that she was having a bad day, and why she didn't
she get a hug? A little annoyed at me, we walked together the Drama class.
Maybe a week later, I saw Harry and went up to him. WE actually carried on a normal conver-
sation about different types of oats, when I confided in him about something. He confided in me, too,
and told me that the Harry Potter thing didn't bug him at all, just the fact that we've been doing
it for a month.
"At first it's funny, 'ha-ha', and then the joke dies, it's a natural process. Dead jokes
shouldn't be dug up again and again. It gets old and is quite annoying." He laughed. "So tell your
little friend Nicole, or whatever her name is, that it's not funny anymore, okay?" he asked,annoyed.
"Yeah, sure, I'll try." I looked at him curiously. "Why are you even talking to me? I thought
that you said that I was annoying?"
"Well, you're not as annoying as my stalkers over there!" He nodded his head in what I supposed was
the general direction of Nicole, Rebecca, Natalie and Kaitlin.
"Well, gee, thanks!" I answered, not sure whether I should be insulted or complimented. I looked
around, and didn't see many seventh graders around, so I said goodbye to Mike. Why do the high
school students get a longer lunchtime? Stupidity, that's all it is. Making my way through the
dirty stairway was a nightmare. People push at you from all sides, trying to run you over. Plus
the steps are covered in dried yogurt or spilt soda. It's disgusting. It took about ten minutes
for me to get to the second floor. How fun.
The bell rings the second that I open the door to my voice class. Nicole and Rebecca were waiting
for me, their eyes wide in curiosity. I sit in the gray, sad excuse for a chair, and relay my story
"I'm not a STALKER!!" Nicole stood up and shouted angrily. Rebecca looked at her, and her stare
said more than words. "Oh." She replied and she sat back down. She stared at me for a minute.
"What?" I asked, checking one of the mirrored walls, looking for something on my face.
"Oh, I was just wondering why he likes you more than me." She replied. I looked at her.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"Nicole, when he was ordering Girl Scout cookies from Val, you tried to copy his phone number,
address, and email down." I said.
"So . . .?" she answered.
"Never mind." I rolled my eyes.
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© 2002 Katherine Gehl Donovan
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