Two Hundred or Less
Hopeless
Jonathan stared at the blank piece of paper, pencil ready to write in his hand. He couldn't believe that he was doing this. Why? It was obvious that she had no feelings for him. Well, she probably had feelings for him. Just as a friend though; clearly not as anything more than that.
He sighed in frustration. Why couldn't he do this? It would be simple. Just write the note, give it to his sister, and have her deliver it to the girl. Simple as pie. He wrote down a few words, but then ripped the sheet out of the notebook and crumpled it up. He quickly uncrumpled it, suddenly changing his mind. But then his doubt kicked in and he threw it over his shoulder, not caring where it landed. He was hopeless.
He sighed in frustration. Why couldn't he do this? It would be simple. Just write the note, give it to his sister, and have her deliver it to the girl. Simple as pie. He wrote down a few words, but then ripped the sheet out of the notebook and crumpled it up. He quickly uncrumpled it, suddenly changing his mind. But then his doubt kicked in and he threw it over his shoulder, not caring where it landed. He was hopeless.