To tell, or not to tell.

I'm standing at the bus stop waiting on my bus and assessing the damage. By "damage" I mean my personal appearance, which is pretty damaged. I have dark circles under my eyes and my hair is a total mess. It's in that weird frizzy, half curly with random strands of straight flyaway hair sort of style that happens when I don't have time to dry it. I figure I could put it up and so I do so. My half-attempt at a pony tail is lopsided and straggly but that just figures. For some reason, my looking like a big ol' pile of poo matters to me now, when about a year or so ago it didn't bother me as much. I started caring a lot more about my appearance when I was fourteen, which was when I had my first crush. Or at least that's what I told myself. Actually, what had happened was that I had noticed everyone else going out with and on about boys and soon they started to question me on the subject. I had to enquire what a crush felt like but once I'd done that, I fooled myself, and those around me into thinking I had a crush on a boy in my English. Don't get me wrong, he was nice and all; sweet, good looking, funny and smart, but I just didn't like him like that. At the time, I thought I did but now that I have a proper crush I see that it was a flimsy excuse for being a late developer. Anyway, that was when I started to care a lot more than before about my appearance. I didn't notice at first, but eventually I noticed I had changed. I suppose it had to happen at some point, and I held onto my childish carelessness for quite a while.
The bus pulls up and I get on, sitting down in my usual seat. I just want to crawl back into bed but sadly, the school day has just begun.

_~=*=~_

I have gym today. I stand and lean against the wall staring at my crush as coyly as possible. I'm actually very good at not being obvious about it. I can glance at them long enough to send electric pulses through my body and to send the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy without making people notice that I'm staring at them. They are walking across the concrete playground to their next class with their mates. I sigh. It's so hopeless. It's never ever going to happen. My crush is so popular and probably doesn't even know my name. Actually, no, they probably do, they just ignore me unless they have to speak with me. Another problem is, well, they are straight as a plank of wood. She's a complete homophobe. She's horrible to Ashley and every other gay kid in the school. I'm not gay though. Just so you know. I'm not a lesbian either! I might be bi-curious I guess but for God's sake I'm only fifteen. It's totally just a phase. I swear, if I was gay I'd be in so much trouble. But I'm not. So it's all good. If I was, someone would have been able to tell by now. Right?