Creative Writing

Butterflies Part 5

“Hi.” I say timidly, my mind drawing a blank. My heart speeds up and my hands start to sweat. My stomach is not full of butterflies, it’s full of wasps that are buzzing so loudly I can’t even hear anything, not my thoughts, not him, not even the band that just started to play. He sits down on the grass, leaning against the ivy covered wall.

“You looked lonely. I came to get you to come party with us.” I look at him with a bemused look on my face.

“I don’t party.” I reply shortly, not meaning to sound so curt. He isn’t affected by my rude tone.

“Yeah you do.” He says amusingly, his brown eyes twinkling. “You just are a little bit rusty.” Before I can say anything else, he grabs me by the arm and pulls me to the group of gorgeous girls. They all look at me with smiles, but I can tell they’re faking them. Even though they’re taken, they can’t stand to see any other actually available girl get attention. I try to stand effortlessly confident, just like Aubrey, but I feel like a child. After a second, I stand back naturally, folding my arms as if to protect myself from anything that will hurt me. That has hurt me. I stand in that circle for a good half hour, not contributing to the conversation, just stealing glances towards him.


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