Wednesday, 9:31 p.m.   What A Romantic Comedy Does A Short Story Because I Feel Like It. A boy saw a girl's friend. The boy asked her where the girl was. The friend explained that she wasn't there and the boy was kind of sad. She would still come, but she wasn't yet and the boy loved the girl. A girl waltzed in and with her each step demanded more and more attention. She saw a boy and her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat and she wished she could run and tackle the boy. The boy couldn't stare at the girl even though he wanted to. He thought she was beautiful and wonderful and he wanted to tell her these as he secretly noticed the girl stealing glances at him. If only he hadn't known that she had already replaced him; he would have liked to freely look at her and not felt guilty. The boy knew when the girl was watching him and felt her disappointment that he never looked at her. The girl and her friend sat on the floor and made The boy join them. The girl reminded the boy about all the fun times they had in the few other times they'd encountered each other. All the discussions in secret, the full long-distance silences on the phone line. She reminded him they were strangers who loved each other in different ways and at different times and from different places. And it was all the same. The boy smiled at the girl and sat her on his lap and watched movies with her. The boy wrapped his arms around the girl and gave her squeezes because he never wanted to let the girl go. Even when he had to he never wanted to leave the room. And when the last movie was over and the boy was standing next to the girl and on a whim, the boy embraced the girl, crushing her soul and lifting her heart at the same time. The girl was so happy right then with the boy. She had so many troubles and so many worries and so many broken lives embedded in her own perfect life and all she wanted was for them to go away. The girl wanted the boy's lips to cover her own and take away her pain as she removed his. He was so beautiful and the girl hated herself for noticing. The girl hated herself for being so selfish and horrible about this... The boy hated that he himself was concerned about her other connections and obligations to do anything about his own desires and wishes to taste her watermelon lipgloss. The boy knew he wanted to kiss her; she was crazy and she was beautiful. The boy's conscience got the better of him and he made do with discreet displays of affection. He held the girl's hands and wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed. The girl walked out of a building with the boy for the last time. She tried to stifle the tears welling deep in her heart up to her eyes. For the sake of the boy, the girl put on a big, wide smile for the boy and patted his head one last time. The girl didn't even consider in her grief that she could give the boy a kiss instead of waiting for him to give one to her, fool that she was. The boy swept the girl into one last soul-crushing embrace, gentle and strong at the same time, and the girl's tears were squeezed out of her. The girl searched the boy's eyes in search of a tear but all she saw was a glare reflected in his glasses. The boy winced when the girl told him she would never see him again and the girl trudged to her car and waved good-bye one sad, last time. A girl shook with her cries as she drove back to her house, frequently wiping away moisture from her eyes. She knew she'd never see the boy again. A boy broke down choked on his swallowed tears and tried to not cry as he rode home with his own friend to leave her. He knew he'd never see the girl again.