Stop it, I think. Stop thinking about Leo. But how can I stop? After all, he nearly kissed me. I could smell the mint and coke lingering in his breath. I could see the deep groves on his lips and the crazy, greedy fire in his eye. It danced and flickered so bright it burnt his pupils to black ash and licked the white of his eye. That look scared me.
I can still feel his hands on the back of my head, tangled through my hair, yanking me close. For some reason, I shudder. That is not how you kiss a girl, especially your best friend. Can't he accept I don't like him? Does he want to completely ruin our friendship with a single relationship?
What is so good about me anyway? I stare down at my stomach. It seems to stick out and bulge underneath my black shirt. Self-consciously I suck it in.
In-describable. That word keeps going over and over in my head. My in-describable girl. I'm not! I'm not his, I'm not anybody's! You can't own me! Who does he think he is?
Leo, I think. That's who he is. But who truly is Leo? The ladies' man. My best friend. The flirty guy. The one who always drinks coke.
The one who tried to kiss you, says a voice in my head. But is that really Leo? Does that truly make up Leo? No. He isn't like that. He doesn't go around kissing every girl he sees. Does he? No. Leo wouldn't do that.
Up ahead I spy Leo's road. Part of me wants to just run down there. Run to his house and pound on the door, then when he opens, apologise. Say I'm sorry. Tell him I was wrong for over-reacting. But I don't. I keep walking.
Head down, eyes looking away, trying to ignore the thought of going down there. Right now I wish I had. I would have known he wasn't there and go looking. Find him before he ran away. Before he became missing Leo.