“She told me you’re not her type.”
“Darn... well at least she’s honest. I guess I need to be a mindless farm boy to get a girl like her.”
“That’s kinda true. If you ever go to her house, she’s got a cemetery of deer heads mounted on her
wall. Now how do you expect to get with her if you don’t even hunt?”
“Really? No wonder she’s still into Peyton. I bet she gets turned on every time he says he shot an
eight pointer.”
“Exactly, which is why you should just go for Robin. At least you have stuff in common with her.”
“I dunno. I don’t wanna sound desperate if I’m all like ‘I like you now since Tiara won’t get over that
hick Peyton’, you know?”
“Better that than to not do anything about it. Besides, she’s crazy for you. Just pretend she’s an
ape. If you throw something her way, even if it’s just a simple ‘how’s it goin’?’, she’ll go bananas. But if
what you give her is overdue and expired, all she’ll do is walk away a sad chimp. When it comes down to it,
you gotta do something now. Before she loses interest in your bananas.”
“I’m not really a fan of how you put that, but I will do something. I just have to wait. It’s too soon.”
“If you wait, you’re just gonna get screwed.”
…

When I got home from my basketball game, I actually took those words Nate said to heart. I had
nothing to lose, and I could only wait so long. Robin obviously liked me, otherwise she wouldn’t have been as
insecure as she was during the last dance. It was a good time, swaying slow to even slower songs with her, but
I couldn’t help feeling like I was being interrogated...
So, do you still like Tiara?
Are you thinking about Tiara right now?
You wish I was Tiara, don’t you?
Tiara... you know she’s dancing with Peyton and not you, right?
With all those questions being thrown at me, I really just wanted to tell Robin how I didn’t like Tiara
anymore, but that whole thought of me looking desperate set in again. I guess that’s yet another thing Robin
and I have in common: self-consciousness. As I looked back at all the Facebook chats we had, the need to tell
her the truth grew stronger, but I had to be smooth like butter, not cheesy like nachos (thank god I never said
anything like that to her, then we wouldn’t have danced in the first place). If I wanted to still look magical
in her eyes, I had to hold off on busting any moves. And even if I did tell her Tiara could screw off, my
occasional glance at the girl would’ve kept Robin skeptical.

If only Tiara and I were never W.E.B. partners last year, then my crush for her would’ve been
nonexistent. Forget helping out little brats enter middle school with an open mind, I had to clear thoughts
and work out problems of my own. All I needed to do was put Robin’s name down instead of Tiara’s on
my ‘Partner I want to be with’ card, but we didn’t talk to each other until the choices were already submitted. I
just wish Nate convinced me to get a Facebook earlier, then this whole spiel wouldn’t even exist; I’d be too
busy typing about how much I adored Robin, the way her black, silky hair ran off her shoulders. How our
conversations involving favorite rappers, talk show hosts, and movies starring Shia LaBeouf and his robot
companions were random, but at the same time, fantastic. And last but not least, the way she motivated me to
come to school everyday, because I didn’t care about doing assignments in algebra or writing journal entries
for social studies.
I just wanted Robin in my life.
But Cupid doesn’t care what I, or you, want. When he pointed his bow in my direction, I just went
with it, but if I knew any better at the time, I would’ve went against his river of romance. But go with the
flow I did, and becoming blinded by love was the result (my glasses couldn’t even give me a hand). With
that said, Cupid doesn’t help lovers fall in love, the atrocious monster only uses his arrows to trip people into
it. And tripped I was, rolling down the staircase of Robin’s heart. As I filled the days on my calendar with
more and more slash marks, Robin’s affection for me also became filled with more and more slash marks. I
was supposed to be there for her, bandaging her crush on me so she wouldn’t get crushed. But I didn’t follow

through with Nate’s words of wisdom:
If you wait, you’re just gonna get screwed.
And screwed I started to get.
The late night Facebook chats between us were the only time I could actually say something to Robin
because that pretty face and cute voice of hers made it hard for me not to get the shakes in person. At
school, I couldn’t even throw a simple ‘how’s it goin’?’ at her, because talking to a monitor was just so much
easier. Whenever we walked by each other in the hallway, there was silence. When we hung out at the
dances, there was silence. When she sat by me during lunch one day, there was silence, but something else
as well; she told me the quiet game wasn’t fun anymore. After walking away in a sad strut, Robin began to
walk away from my life in general, and that pitiful posture of hers rubbed off on me, too. Even when I won
the Spelling Bee at school, I still couldn’t lift the burden of her absence off my weak shoulders and confused
head. I was able to spell words in front of hundreds, but when the time came for me to say a word to Robin,
my mind collapsed. In a sense, Facebook ruined me, because my clever comments and quirky conversations
could never adjust into what mattered most; real life. But there was someone who could, and Robin noticed.
With the next school dance a few days away, Robin wasn’t talking to me anymore, but this guy named
Joel. I felt like Woody in Toy Story; when set next to Buzz, I was the inferior boy toy. Why would Robin
want a schmuck like me when she could have Joel, someone who didn’t even tremble when swarmed by
babes? I bet both of us asked that question, but only one went through with it. When the dance finally arrived,
I sat down, watching Robin sway slow to even slower songs with Joel. I couldn’t help feeling like it was on an
infinite loop, and it was killing me inside. Robin’s sad strut couldn’t carry her emotions anymore, making her
fall into Joel’s arms instead of mine. Feeling trapped, my mind interrogated itself...

Does she still like me as a friend?
Is she thinking about me right now?
She wishes I was more like Joel, doesn’t she?
Brandon... you know she’s dancing with Joel and not you, right?

It’s been over a year since that happened, and to this day, I still ask those questions. Rather than be
depressed about it, I feel a sense of regret. Robin and I were inseparable, just like Tiara and Peyton, but when
it comes to girls, you have to either take the shot or get shot, and I took too long to trigger a happy ending. As
Nate would say, I waited and got screwed. I just hope Robin gives me a second chance someday, but until
then, all I’m left with is memories.
Memories of how I trapped myself in a cage, and watched her fly like a bird.