Hey There, Delilah

The relationship I have with my Hello Kitty fuzzy pajama pants would probably be considered illegal in at least 43 states, not to mention Puerto Rico.

I curled up into a ball under my blankets, my air conditioner lowering the steamy temperature in my room to at least forty degrees. My mother always wondered why I always put the AC on so high, but honestly, nothing compared to wearing your favorite pair of fuzzy pajamas while losing yourself under a mound of blankets.

It was so fudging comfortable.

Matt had just left after our tutor session, the third one since my mom awkwardly walked in on me straddling him, and we always ended up laying on me bed, staring up at the ceiling making wise crack remarks and getting absolutely no work done whatsoever.

It was probably a few of the best hours of my day, to be honest. In school, Matt was this hard ass guy who acted differently around Meghan and all our friends, like he was out to impress someone. But when he came over, he just dropped this facade of how it should act and becomes this completely nerdy and obnoxious kid who slept with a night light until the middle of freshman year. And Matt told me this willingly.

Throughout this week alone, we'd grown a sort of...mutual trust between us. In the middle of balancing school work and tutoring, we've shared those minute details you only learn when you've known someone as long as Meghan and I have. But with Matt it just comes so easily, almost flawlessly.

To be honest, it scared me I had more of a connection with Matt than I did with my own boyfriend. Don't get me wrong, Ben and I are practically perfect for each other, I mean that's what happens when both of us have the same comical mentality as each other. Sometimes, though, we just aren't on the same page.

I'll mention something I read online about some random topic, and while Matt has a response that could spark a debate for an hour, Ben just smiles and says, "You would look that up."

While we kiss and hug and hold hands and make even more sexual jokes now that we're together, Ben still feels like just a friend to me. A friend with benefits, and I feel bad for thinking whenever he smiles that his smile doesn't compare to Matt's. Or when he touches my arm I think, there's no electricity.

I'm going insane not to mention terrified because I might possibly, sort of, accidentally could be falling for my best friend's boyfriend.

And the repercussions of doing so? They're too frightening to think about, but I do anyway.

Ostracism. Losing my best friend in the whole entire world. Humiliation. And worst of all? Matt saying he would never pick me over Meghan.

I mean, he obviously already picked Meghan over me, but imagining him saying those words out loud, throwing them into the open for the world to hear would probably break me in two.

I'm done being second best. I actually want someone to look behind Meghan, in her shadow, and see simple, brown-haired me standing there waiting to be discovered.

"You get what I mean?" Ben asks, his voice floating through the cell phone wedged between my ear and my shoulder. I'm trying to organize the stack of homework I just pulled from my backpack and mumble, "Completely," even though I have no idea what I just agreed to.

"You know I've been thinking," Ben continues and I can tell how his voice wavers that this is going to be something important.

"What about?" I prompt, still somewhat distracted in finding the pencil I just put down beside me. My Facebook IM beeps and it scares me for a second before I drag my laptop in my lap and put my cell on speaker.

I smile when I see it's a message from Matt. Hey what's cracka lackin?

Attempting to find my pencil, I respond, trying to keep my breath from hitching in my throat.

"That would should go on an official date, you know? Like movies, pizza, clichéd stuff like that."

I fight the nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me that I don't really want to and instead fake excitement, "That's sounds perfect."

My chat notifies me of another message and I instantly open the little window, Behind your ear, Del.

I raise an eyebrow but reach up and feel the sharp tip of my pencil tucked neatly behind me ear. Smiling, I type, Found it!...It might possibly have been behind my ear.

"Really?" Ben goes on to ask, "Alright, wanna go Friday then?"

"Uh, what?" I question, temporarily thrown off by Matt still automatically knowing where I keep my pencil.

"You alright, Del? You seem kind of distracted."

"I'm fine," I respond hastily before getting an idea. "I just can't find my pencil."

"Oh." Silence. "Under your bed maybe?"

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. I know pencil placement shouldn't mean that much, but I couldn't keep myself from thinking that Matt knows me that much better than Ben does. I mean, there have been days when my pencil has ended up under my bed, but chances are, five times out of six, my writing utensil is neatly behind my ear.

See? I knew tutoring you would come in handy at some point. I can almost see Matt smiling, his face imprinted in my mind.

How surprising! I type quickly before turning back to my cell phone. I felt like the worst girlfriend in the world. I really truly did. "Hey, Ben, I gotta go, this homework is suffocating me already. I'll talk to you later alright?"

"Alright, bye," there's a measured pause before a hurried, "Love you," follows.

I swear, if my heart rate went any higher, I'd be in cardiac arrest by now. Matt IMs me at the most inopportune time and I don't stop myself from clicking on his name and reading it, even while Ben is probably not-so-patiently waiting for my response.

Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Del. What we have is love!

I practically fall off my bed, color exploding in front of my eyes. Love? We, referring to Matt and I, with love in the same sentence? My thoughts were completely incoherent as I attempted to wrap my brain around this.

"Too soon?" Ben asks and I nod even though he can't see me. "It's just that...we've known each for so long that we wouldn't have to wait that long to say it, and I mean, I do love you so...why wait in telling you, right?"

"Right," I echo. He had perfect logic. He was right. Then why was it so hard for me to mumble back, "Love you, too?"

Why did I have to be more head over heels for the guy I couldn't have?