I kind of wondered what would happen at the end of school. Would I tell him I liked him? Maybe. He wasn't a close friend, but he was my friend, right? Could I tell him, or would it ruin the little closeness that I did have with him?
"Dean!" I cried, without thinking. He turned around, looking at me like I was a lunatic, as I ran up to him. The buses idled on the curb.
Raising his eyebrows high enough that they disappeared under his blond hair, he crossed his arms and said "Morgan," like he was disappointed in me.
"I have a challenge for you!" I chirped, poking him in the chest. His friends, my friends, leaned in to hear what I was about to say.
"What?" he asked.
"If you go and tell the person you like that you like them, or ask them out, I'll do that same!" I babbled, grinning triumphantly.
He rolled his eyes at me. "Why would I want to do that?" he asked.
"Do you really want to leave and never see them again without telling them?" I asked.
He shrugged and said "fine, but this is only because I want to see who you like." He walked up to Guerty, the most annoying back-stabbing fake twit I'd ever met. They talked for a moment, she laughed, (her laugh sounding to me like that of a banshee, as it always did, jealousy or no jealousy,) and he smiled. I caught the words "tomorrow, at noon." Tomorrow was Saturday. A perfect day for a date.
"Alright, you go ask the guy you like out," he said, smiling. I shook my head in a no.
"What?" he hissed. "Why was I the only one who had to do that?"
"You're not," I muttered, backing up.
"Then why? Why don't you go talk to him?" The bus driver beeped, yelling out to me that he was going to leave right away.
"Because he just asked out Guerty and she said yes," I reasoned, stepping onto the bus and gripping the guardrail.
"...What?" Dean looked up at me with confusion on his face. "You like me? Why would... why would you tell me to do that if you liked me?" he asked. The bus driver was just reaching for the lever to close the door.
"If I've got no chance, I'd rather leave here knowing that you're happy," I answered. The door closed. I waved good-bye, a tear running down my face. The bus started to leave.
Dean looked at me, then turned around and walked back to his friends and resumed talking to them. I walked to a seat and sat down. I wasn't rejected, and I still managed to tell him, in the end, I reasoned. Why does it still hurt so much?
My cell vibrated in my pocket. Lucas' number popped up, and I opened the text message and read it. Don't think this is over. One of these days, I will find you and make you explain yourself. -Dean
At that, I smiled a little despite myself. Maybe I did have a bit of a chance after all.
********
I do wonder what would happen if I were to tell the guy I like that I like him. I ended up thinking of this. 
I changed the names, of course, but the guy I like does like the girl I hate. Just a fun fact.
