Mark, the boy I really like, the boy who is close friends with the boy who wants to be my boyfriend, Robert, and who Robert knows I like and the knowledge of which makes him jealous and sad, this boy, this cute, cute boy, Mark, just left my house hurriedly saying, "This feels like a teen movie."

I had invited him to come see Hamlet with me tonight. He couldn't because he had to work. After getting home from the play, around 12:30, I got a text from him asking how it was, and we chatted, or texted as it were, for a bit before I invited him over and he asked which train stop my house was off of. And it was soon after that that he was at my house, but not before, not before, me, your narrator here, protagonist in a teen movie as it were, cleaned my house, trying to make it look nice, changed my shirt, tried to make myself look more attractive, more cool as it were.

He arrived and it was super awkward and he admitted right away, guilty feeling, that he didn't know what he was doing here, that he had been hanging out with Robert at a bar just earlier and had lied to say that he was going home. And I told him that he shouldn't feel bad. We got stoned, probably the mistake that made Mark get weirded out about the mess of the situation. We slightly would touch on the couch with our knees and we both knew what should happen, why he had come over, but both were nervous about breaking some sort of line of acceptability in friendships. I stopped caring about it, the awkwardness being too much, wanting it to end, and I kissed him. And it was so perfect, so nice, and we kissed some more, and I couldn't believe what was happening, that I was kissing this beautiful boy. He makes me so nervous in that type of way that hasn't been felt in a while; the questioning of this person's judgment, this person so otherwise perfect seeming, because they should think you worth their time, that it must just be luck, such great luck. And this boy makes me crazy and giddy and so absurdly shy. He then said that we shouldn't be doing this. We kissed some more. He then again said that we shouldn't be doing this. We kissed more. And then he started to talk about Robert's feeling and how he had to go. I told him that I didn't like Robert and did like him. He again talked about Robert's feelings. I tried to convince him to stay, but he apologized for coming over as he got his bag together, said that joke about this being a teen movie, and left, left me feeling totally heartsick and crazy watching him walk away down my building's staircase, out of the frame.