From: Felicity Drew.

To: Felix Hunter.

The next day, you insisted that we should walk home together.

It was weird. So weird. Too weird.

We had apparently been seat buddies for months and yet we had never said a word to each other, then all of a sudden, you were trying to be my best friend.

At this point, I was still snapping at you every time I opened my mouth. I still don't understand why you didn't just stop, so I asked.

You said that you noticed I had no friends and that you wanted to know what everyone else was missing out on. Of course, me being the dramatic being that I am, I took that as an offense.

And you did it again. You didn't get mad but just tried to explain that it wasn't out of pity as we walked home. Even though I tried so hard to get on your nerves so you would leave me alone, you never did.

When I finally reached my home, we met mom at the door.

Now that, was a true nightmare.

Mom was, to say the least, ecstatic. She had never met a friend of mine, -I didn't have any- so she was so persistent that you stayed for dinner.

I snapped at you again. Told you to never follow me, or speak to me again, and that I was only agreeing to that dinner for mom.

Then you went ahead and used your infamous word-twisting technique. You said, 'why are you talking about yourself in the third person, of course, you would agree for me to stay for dinner for you.'

I said that I wanted to hit you and you did it again. You twisted my words and said that you knew it was just my weird way of hitting on you.

I was afraid that I would embarrass myself by slapping the air instead of you since I didn't know where you were sitting exactly, but I did it anyway.

Only to embarrass myself by hitting the couch.

I expected you to laugh as my anger melted away and turned into absolute and utter humiliation, but you didn't.

You gently took my wrist and slapped your shoulder with it, then pretended to cry about how much your shoulder hurts.

I won't lie, that made me smile. Even if I hid that smile from you.

You started to ask about what I like to do in my free time, and that question escalated a bit too quickly. My fault by the way. I just had to mention that I used to read all the time and that Braille feels weird so I don't do it as often.

Remember that curious bone in your body? It made an appearance.

You wondered, just like you always did, how could Braille feel so weird if I've been doing it for so long.

I didn't answer that, of course, I didn't. I couldn't. I just explained that I wasn't born blind. Thankfully, you got the message and didn't ask any further.

After we had our dinner, in which mom insisted you called her by her first name; Alicia, and I found out that you lived on the street behind ours, you announced that you were leaving.

Although you did nothing wrong, I still acted like a jerk to you. You were a sweetheart and I was not. I could hear your smile all the time, and I could feel my frown.

You were a happy free bird and I was the stone that would be tied to your foot.

I wanted what was good for both of us when I told you to never show your face again, but of course, you didn't listen.

You had a weird way of doing things. You made me a deal. If I went bowling with you, you would not bother me a day after.

Of course, I refused. And of course, you convinced me. You said that you would become extra annoying and that you wouldn't leave me alone unless I accompany you.

And so I agreed. And according to mom, I kicked you out with a smile.