The English Assignment

In English we were given an assignment to write a narrative about something that's impacted us. This is what mine is!

The Ride Home
His car smelled like faint Old Spice. As I sat there I couldn't believe I was in the car that I've watched drive by so many times. One question circulated around in my mind as Man-pretty unlocked his door: Why on earth would he offer me a ride home if he knew I liked him so much?

I quickly took note on everything he said between the school doors and his car. Rush, Mad TB, coughing, cars, and brooms were all mentioned in that brief time. I took a huge breath as he got into the driver's seat. Obviously the first thing I did was make a joke. How me. Why can't I ever do anything right? But what was I supposed dto say? I couldn't have just declared my love to him--for a second time.

Man-pretty's read all those poems. Those lousy poems I wrote about him that sit in the bottom of my locker. Why did I show him them? Those were supposed to be private and I outright told him he was my inspiration. The weird thing was he said he liked them; he said they were good enough to be entered in a contest. There's just something about him that makes me spill out all my personal feelings. Things I don't even feel comfortable sharing with the best of my friends I feel I can easily confide in him. He told me about how he was cheated on and how he has "issues" that he's pretty sure he's gotten over.

He turned on his CD player, which was set on blaring. He was backing out of the parking lot when he peeled out. I was so worried Man-pretty would drive so quickly we wouldn't have time to talk. He quickly reassured me that wasn't going to happen when he started laughing and fiddling with the CD player. "Remember that song I wrote, I sent you the lyrics? Wanna hear something funny?"

"Hmmm?" I quickly recalled what he was talking about. How could I not? I had read those lyrics about fifteen times. I had even saved them to my private documents. It was a song about dreams.

"Well, it's number eleven." He said this as the track number on the digital display read 11. "I lied, I didn't write it. It's an old Rush tune."

"How rude! You lied to me. I feel so hurt!" We both started laughing as he turned the corner.

He took off the hat he had been wearing. That ridiculous hat that had been hiding his soft, brown hair, which I have had the honor of playing with on past occasions, was chucked into the backseat. "That'll add to the junk in my trunk." It took all my strength to keep myself from saying something about his butt. I really didn't want the topic of conversation to go there.

I mentioned something about soccer. Man-pretty and I both love soccer. It's one of the things we have in common.

After that it seemed like I was home in an instant. I opened the door to get out. As I looked back into the car to give one last thanks I saw his magnificent brown eyes looking at me. "See you tomorrow." Was all he said, but it was enough. Enough to keep me up all night recalling how much I adore him and how he won't acknowledge that fact.

As I do every night before I go to sleep, I thought of how wonderful it would be to have his arms wrapped around me. To see him smile and know that I was the cause would be simply amazing. Maybe some day, hopefully some day soon, that'll happen. For now I like to think of that night as a turning point. A turning point that hasn't yet fully turned.

What do you think? A bit too much for an assignment? Peanuts said that I should use his real name in the assignment, which I am. For some reason in this thing I'm not going to use real names. It adds to the mystery that is my life. LOL, so no, his name's not really Man-pretty, that's just what I call him.