Keep the Closet Door Closed

"Ah!" I cried, re-entering the room to see Jasper leaning against the wall- however he does it- tauntingly. "What?!" Anthony shrieked, unaware of what I was seeing. So, I didn't just imagine the ghost in my room. "Who is your friend?" Jasper asked, nodding over at Anthony.

Right, Anthony. I met him in Honors Physics and he was in all of my classes since then. I didn't really think much of him until he read a poem he wrote out loud in English. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. I don't like him as anything more than a friend but he must have some depth to him if he wrote that masterpiece.

"Spider." I muttered to Anthony, swishing my hands out in front of me to scare away the made up spider. Anthony eyed me suspiciously and Jasper chuckled. I shot a glare over at him, he shrugged and looked over at Anthony again. His bright eyes became slivers when they fell on Anthony and I could tell there was already bad blood.

I ignored it and said, "So, teach me to write like you do." to Anthony. He smiled at me. "It isn't difficult. You just have to think of something that is important to you." He placed his fingers over my eye lids, gently making me shut them and said, "Think. What makes you tic?" His breath was on my neck and his lips were close to my ear. For whatever reason, it wasn't uncomfortable to me. I hated being touched by anyone but it was- okay for him.

I heard an abrupt cough from the corner of the room and jumped, glaring over at Jasper who seemed very unhappy. I forgot about him for a moment and almost felt guilty that he had to see something so stomach-churning. Anthony's smirk widened. "You got something!" he said, misinterpreting my sudden movement.

"Uh, yeah." I said. "I am so sorry but I think this was a bad idea. I have to leave in five minutes and it takes me ten to get ready. See you tomorrow!" I lied, rushing him rudely out of the room. Smooth. I caught my breath and looked over at Jasper who was looking back at me. "What do you want, Danny Phantom?" I hissed.

His eye brow raised. "Who?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. Dead guys and their lack of knowledge. "21st century cartoon character." I replied. His eyes widened. "Is that the time period right now?" he asked, shocked.

Frustrated, I replied, "Yes. It is September 2nd, 2008." His eye brows furrowed together. "Oh." he replied, obviously disturbed by something. "What?" I asked, exhausted.

"Nothing. Its just that my girlfriend and I got together September 3rd, 1980." he said, looking down. I rolled my eyes. "She isn't your girlfriend, obviously. Get over her. For the love of God, you are such a pussy." I growled, tumbling back down onto my bed. What an over dramatic cry baby. Twenty-eight years have passed and he is still obsessed with some girl who dumped him and made him kill himself.

When I heard no snarky response, I opened one eye to see that he disappeared. How does he keep doing this? Why doesn't he do it all the time? I closed my eyes again and decided I'd work on being a little more social. I realized that I am a bit of a.. bitch.