If I Hate You, How Is It That I Love You?

We took a taxi to Central Park. We were dropped off a good distance away from the zoo that was there so we decided to walk around for awhile before heading to the zoo. I had told Matt that no matter what, we were going to the Central Park Zoo because I wanted to see penguins and wild cats. He laughed when I said penguins so I smacked his arm. It probably hurt my hand more than it hurt him. While walking, we eventually got a little hungry. I got an ice cream cone, chocolate ice cream of course, and Matt got a hot dog.

"Matt, I have something to ask you," I started, staring down at my cone.

"What is it?" he pressed, his mouth partly full with hot dog.

"Well, after last night and the dance and what not, where does that put us?" I asked slowly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, like, what are we? Are we still enemies or are we friends or are we more than friends?" Matt chewed slowly as he thought over his answer. At least, that's what I thought he was doing.

"Well, I don't know. I'd rather let you decide for yourself on how you want to be involved with me. Not that I wouldn't enjoy being able to say your girlfriend," he hastily added. I stopped walking and stared at him. He stopped too and looked at me. "What's wrong?"

"So you're saying that you want us to be in a relationship?" I questioned.

"If you want. I already said I'd rather have the liberty of calling you my girlfriend."

"Oh God. Every girl in Huntington High is gonna hate me," I groaned, covering my face partly to hide my blushing face.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Matt inquired. I peeked at him through my fingers.

"What do you think I'm saying?"

"That you want to be my girlfriend."

"Then you are thinking correctly." He grinned, flaunting those adorable dimples of his.