Boys Are Terrible At Texting (and Other Revelations from My Brief Relationship with Stupid McLoserPants)

In the last installment of her epic saga, Sunshine_AZ shared the most squee-worthy kiss EVER with Charlie—so how did it all go so wrong? You're about to find out!—Sparkitors

I wish I could have ended the story with the last post. I wish I could tell you all that Charlie and I are living happily ever after in our castle made of music and happiness and dancing unicorns. But alas, this is not so, and I would be lying if I said it was.

So where were we? Ah, yes. Fireworks. AHEM!

It was like time had completely stopped. If you have ever experienced literally standing on a cloud, you would understand what this kiss felt like. (Also, if you have stood on clouds, how did you DO that? I must know!) The tingle that Colbie Caillat sings about totally happened, only it was much faster and it started more in the kidney area. The only thing that could have made this kiss more perfect is if we rode off into the sunset on a white horse. (Unfortunately, it was already dark and I've yet to see a horse in our neighborhood.)

After he pulled away, I had to take a couple breaths to ease the dizziness. (You guys! I was dizzy! Have you ever been dizzy from a kiss before? It was like in Bambi and I was Flower after the sexy skunk smooched him.) He pushed the hair off my face and behind my ear. "Good Night." He whispered.

"Uh..... um.... yeah." I said back. But he was already gone. (My mind: Smoooooth. I don't even understand how you attract the opposite gender.)

I went through my front door in a state of bliss. I was completely and utterly twitterpated. (Keep in mind, this state of twitterpation is not necessarily because I like him. Er, liked him! Liking him is beside the point. Stop telling me I like him! I mean liked! Past tense! Past tense!) I may or may not have felt ghost vibrations from my phone in anticipation of a text message. I may or may not have slept that night. But, as what can now be expected of Stupid McLoserpants, I saw that I did indeed have a text message from him in the morning. And guess what it said?

S: So, I know its awkward and all to ask this in a text but... I still don't know if that kiss was appropriate.

Appropriate?! Ho boy... If there was thing guys should know is that always most of the time, a kiss like THAT is very appropriate.

S: Do you like me at all?

I froze. What do you say to something like that? You don't tell someone you like him through a text. That's so... impersonal. So seventh grade. So dumb. Besides... I still wasn't sure if I actually liked him, or if it was just my dopamine acting up. I don't want to tell him I like him and then decide later that he's actually the biggest dud ever. That has happened too many times. And too many times I've been the victim.

Me: This isn't the type of thing I usually like to talk about through texting.

I sent the message apprehensively. It was one of those messages that required an immediate response. Immediately!
One minute went by. Okay, at least he's not answering too quickly.
Three minutes. Average wait time is over....
Eight minutes. Getting nervous... Did I just ruin this?
Ten minutes. Sheizer. I ruined this.
Twelve minutes. Maybe I need to help him out a little...?? (My mind: Crappydoodle)

Me: I'm pretty sure you don't have to worry about it though ;)

S (three minutes later): Okay. Do you want to go do something?

Me: I think I would absolutely love to. :)

.........................................................

No response.

No response.

No response.

NO RESPONSE NO RESPONSE NO RESPONSE!!!

What the friggin crackers?! What is going on?

I checked the message status. "Success" it read. According to Verizon, my words were displayed on his phone.
Maybe he's busy? (On a Sunday? For someone who's agnostic and just asked me if I wanted to do something? Not a chance!) Maybe he fell asleep? (What, is he narcoleptic?) Maybe there was an emergency? (He lives in my neighborhood. I hear no sirens.)

Finally I just decided to leave it. A watched phone never buzzes. I started working on my calculus.

I finished my calculus. I even checked my answers. My phone's remained stuck on the dim glow of the background screen.
I spelled chords for Music theory. Still nothing. I could have rewritten Mozart's symphony #5 in a different key and still there would be nothing!
I opened Looking For Alaska and started reading.
Seven hours later, I finished Looking for Alaska. Nothing. (Except for some tears. Miles' epiphany is so moving.)

Two days passed before I heard from that boy again. Two days! Forty-eight hours! What a stupid dumb butt, that McLoserpants is. When I finally did hear from him, it was in the middle of the stupid night. (Side note: I say stupid a lot. I feel like if you say it with enough force and enough emphasis on both syllables, it contains the meaning of every swear word.)

S: What's up?

Me: Considering the time of day, I'm guessing the answer to that is now the moon. And also my melatonin level.

S: Haha yeah....

Me: I think that one required a guffaw. Not a courtesy laugh.

S: So how've you been?

Me (annoyed): Oh just hunky dory. It's nice to know you're still living too.

S: So... about the other day. You don't have to answer that question. I understand.

Me: You understand? I don't think you do. I don't think you understand that I like you so much it scares me. I don't think you understand why I didn't want to tell you that in a text message in the middle of the night. I don't think you understand why I don't understand you.

S: Well it's just... I feel confused. I don't know how I feel anymore.

My mind: What? You don't know how you feel anymore? You are more confusing than Inception played in French!

Me: Um... okay. Let me know what you're a little more sure of yourself.

S: Okay.

I slept a frustrated sleep that night. The next morning when I got to school, Mr. Stupid McLoserpants was standing with all his Ballroom friends, some of whom were my own. So naturally, I joined them.

Unnaturally, however, when I said "Hi!" I received eight blank stares, several up-downs, and one smirk. Whoa. What's with the ice people? I did not hear anything about temperature dropping on the news this morning.

"We need to talk to Barnes about costumes," said one of the girls in the group, the co-captain of the ballroom team. They all left me standing there, in the middle of the lake of cold shoulders. I didn't even have an I-know-what-I-did coat to wear. And as I watched Mr. Stupid McLoserpants walk away with his abominable snowpeople, I couldn't help but feel a pang of real loss.

Uhhh...WHAT IS GOING ON?! Why the sudden cold shoulder from the Ballroom gang? Why is Charlie suddenly so confused about his feelings? WHY IS SUNSHINE SO GOOD AT WITTY QUIPS VIA TEXT? (The guffaw and melatonin lines nearly killed us.) All of these questions desperately need answers—wouldn't you agree, Sparklebutts?

Related post: Stupid McLoserPants Part III: This Is Where It Gets GOOD