Why I Don 't Do You Like? Essay
Naturally, answer was always the same too. I’d offer a half-hearted shrug and a glance to the side. “I’m just friends with boys. I don’t really feel like I need to date them.”
That was why Mike was so important. Mike was the first boy that I’d ever loved. Mike felt like a bit of an outlier. He was a tall, lanky boy that was exceedingly proud of his Italian heritage. He dressed exclusively in oversized suits and dress shirts and wore borderline-offensive cologne that his grandfather brought him from Sicily for his birthday. He often ran late to class, haphazardly combing through his dark, disheveled brown hair. As bizarre as his style was, he was always very particular about his looks.
Some people thought he was weird. Most didn’t pay him any mind at all. As for me, I thought he was perfect.
It had started as a simple friendship. We sat next to each other in band and English. He didn’t mind talking to me about my strange taste in Irish music, and I didn’t mind sharing my homework answers before class. He would come over to my…