Snooping

I was wondering if anyone would notice he was gone. I was sure they certainly wouldn’t miss him.

He’s impossible to like. At least I thought so.

The brief moment of being impressed by his intellect had died as quickly, as he could make a sex joke.

“How do you go from incredibly mature and insightful to fourteen year-old boy in a locker room?”

It never ceased to astound me how fast he could switch gears.

It was as if every time he began to be intellectual, he’d catch himself and have to make a dumb crack to hide that he was actually smart.

In reality, I knew how smart he was. We used to talk about a lot of really interesting things.

He smirked and batted long dark lashes flirtatiously. “It’s a gift.”

“Sometimes getting a straight answer from you is like pulling teeth.”

“Oh? Is it frustrating?” He said in a honeyed voice, giving me a pointed look that told me where this was going.

Too late.