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Aug 2019
Clock says 3:34, Friday afternoon
Waiting for the bell, but it rings too soon
My throat's too parched, butterflies in my stomach
I walk out of class, then I take off running
I hear my voice squeaking, I'm sweating bullets
My heartbeat's racing, I tell myself to cool it
Gotta get myself ready, I'm a nervous wreck
As I put myself out there, stick out my neck
I stroll to her locker, think I'm smooth as butter
Catch her bright gaze, involuntarily I shudder
Never done this before, ****'s scared outta me
So I open my mouth
What's it gonna be?
I squeak out the words
"Will you go out with me?"

No response as she turns back to the metal door
Spins the combination, flicks it back once more
The green rectangle swings open toward me
Now I start to wonder, do I have to repeat?
I quickly say her name, catch her nod from behind
I stare dumbfounded, wish I had a better line
Door slams shut, which way's this gonna go?
She spins then replies...
"Maybe. I don't know."

...Uh, wait, huh? What's that supposed to mean?
I just stare in shock, I feel like I'm turning green
I prepared for the yes, I prepared for the no
But after that answer what the hell do I know?
With a flippant little shrug she brushes right past
Says "I'll catch ya later", disappears into the mass
I'm standing alone, fingers nervously tapping
With a singular thought - What the hell just happened?
I didn't get the yes that I hoped for and expected
And she didn't say no, but I feel pretty **** dejected
Did I get rejected? Well, my ego got bruised
I'm bewildered and perplexed, downright confused
I'm frozen, mystified, as my buddies breeze by
One stops on a dime, spins and looks me in the eye
His expectant look asks a silent yes or no
I just give a little shrug...
"Maybe. I don't know."

They pester me with questions on our long walk home
But I'm totally distracted and I let my mind roam
What does Monday hold in store, will I get an answer?
I feel the panic rising so I join the friendly banter
The weekend creeps by, I'm consumed by my thoughts
Exhausted by the wondering, stomach still in knots
Early Monday morning, confidently stroll to school
But before I reach the door I feel like a **** fool
My eyes scan the grounds and I see where she stands
I spot her...
Another guy...
And their interlocked hands

My jaw drops a foot and I suddenly feel sick
Is she ruthlessly cruel or this a mean trick?
Internally I'm fuming nonstop all day
Externally I'm sweating and the world fades away
It feels like each class is progressively hotter
I ask my last teacher to leave to get some water
The class hears her reply and loses all control
Through the laughter comes her answer...

"Maybe. I don't know."
A (mostly-true) ode to pre-teen relationship angst.
Set to the rhythm of the mid-90s pop-rap of my youth
MicMag
Written by
MicMag  M/Texas
(M/Texas)   
307
       Toreinss Pinwinkel III, sue, Traveler and Crow
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