Instead of finding a way to hate her so I can justify what I’m going to do, I’ve started to find her attractive and that’s never a good thing. All that I can see when I close my eyes at night is her face. I can probably describe her body better than I can my own. I don’t think I’ve looked at any other girl as intently as I’ve looked at Serena. Not only does she have the perfect body, she’s beautiful beyond words. She’s also funny, clever and fun to be with. What more could a guy possibly want? She’s almost perfect. Almost. “What are you thinking about?” she asks. My eyes flash onto her curious face. She’s always asking me what I’m thinking or how I’m feeling about stuff. I can feel myself making a face as I try to decide if I should be honest with her or not. I decide to be honest. She’s clearly rubbing off on me. “I was thinking about you.” I watch a gentle blush creep up from her chest until it lands on her cheeks. She narrows her eyes at me as if suspicious, which of course she has every right to be.
