If Only He Realised

1140 words


It was like every other day this week. I'd come home, finish homework, have a snack, then straight to the computer and go online. I'd find myself wasting time, every single day without fail, just to talk to them. Well, in all honesty, mainly just for this one guy. It was the only time we got to talk, in school hours we barely associated with each other. Hours were spent talking, listening and flirting. Hours of pointless, aimless conversations. Hours filled with inane chatter. Hours wasted, hours spent feeling down, and all because the only thing he can talk about is another girl.

I had arrived home, sweaty from the combination of school sport and the sweltering summer heat. Immediately upon crossing over the threshold came the instruction to start my homework, else privileges would be removed. The usual threat of getting grounded was issued. None of it really bothered me, it had no effect, and my mind was on other things.

I rushed through Maths, blitzed through English, hastened through French and gave Science my best shot. Eager to begin talking, I sped to the computer, my electronic haven. The blinking lights that indicated the start-up took an eternity, the icons symbolising loading: millennia too long. I needed conversation, to interact with my friends, to check up on sent emails and previously posted stories. In every sense of the words, I was addicted to the internet.

The computer finally awakened, with a final beep to indicate its completion. Mouse whirring, fingers poised to the dusty keys, I logged on at last. Scanning the list of people online, I smiled inwardly to see my favourite names. With a quick “hello”, it began.

My hands were hard against the keys, banging them in an attempt to type faster, my mother getting irritated at the sound. Every word that was said made me laugh; every word was a link to my friends. And then... he signed on.

My mind zipped into strategic mode. What do I do now? Do I talk first? Would it look like I had no life? Do I wait till he speaks? Oh god, how do I work this? My fingers reached tentatively towards the keys, seeming to have a mind of their own.

“Hey.”

Oh crap, I'd done it. I'd spoken first. Good move Einstein. I closed my eyes, my breathing became hitched.  I waited, ten seconds passed, then another five. One eye opened a sliver; I peeked at the screen and...

“Hey right back, what’s up? :) ”

I sank back into the leather chair in relief. He had replied, he didn’t think I was a loser or anything silly like that. Smiling to myself, I span the chair round in a graceful arc, coming to a rest back facing the computer. Of course he wouldn’t think I was a loser, how could I be so stupid! Now for my well thought out and witty reply, but what do I say?

“Not much, you?”

Ugh. THAT was my attempt at wit? THAT was the best I could come up with? Mentally berating myself, I sat waiting for him to reply, talking to my other friends at the same time. Although I had been expecting it, the neon orange flashing rectangle at the bottom of the screen made my heart skip a beat.

“Same. Just hung out with Mel all day, was fun. Oh yeah, and could you give me some advice?”

Oh, there we go, Mel. Every conversation eventually led to her and how much he liked her. It was quick today. Why do I inflict this upon myself when I know there’s absolutely no point? He would never change his mind. He wouldn’t ever realise that I liked him; he’s so bloody ignorant of anything that isn’t related to HER in some way. At first I had been tolerant. I was even understanding, sympathetic to his unrequited feelings, as I was experiencing the very same thing.

And now? He wants me to give him advice on how to get this girl? The girl I would give anything to be? Is he INSANE? I stared passively at the screen, my blinking cursor poised over the text box. Before I get the chance to reply, another message causes the orange flashes to flicker again.

“C’mon Eva, you know you’re the only girl I trust to talk about this to. I really need your help on this”

Way to guilt trip buddy. He really doesn’t get it. He can’t see how hard it is, for me to even answer him. My hands feel like lead, I don't want to reply. I don't want to help him. I don’t want to see him with her, or even hear about her a moment longer. Hear how beautiful she is, how much she makes you laugh. When I see her at school I cringe inside. Oh, how I envy her! If only he could just NOTICE. I lift my hands to the keyboard as my mind whirrs. It hits me. A subtle yet pointed remark that hints enough for him to realise... and yet the second I pressed send, I knew it didn’t come across that way.

“Well maybe you should just LOOK around, pick up on seriously OBVIOUS hints on what she thinks. Maybe then you’ll realise that although she’s CLEARLY not interested, other people are, people that have been here for you ALL ALONG.”

Well, if he doesn’t understand that, he’s an idiot. He wouldn’t be worth my time. He isn’t worth any of it at all. I repeat these lines over and over in my head like a mantra. If he doesn’t get this blindingly obvious hint, I would forget him and move on. I would... well I would try.

“Huh? I'm not really sure what you mean...”

Congratulations Eva. You sure know how to pick them. This one doesn’t even understand plain English, let alone when a girl is practically throwing herself at him. I rolled my eyes, a real showstopper too, one that would have gotten me grounded had I used it on my parents. He really isn’t worth it.

“Figure it out.”

I really shouldn’t bother, shouldn’t have even said that. Pointless really. I took a deep breath, filled with resolve, and suspended the cursor over the block button. The icon indicating that he was typing back popped up. Do I really want to hear it? I consider a moment longer, cursor still hovering hesitantly. No. I really don't. I don't want to hear a thing. So I did it. With a quick decisive motion, I click down hard, effectively blocking him for good.

Or at least until tomorrow when I need my next internet fix.