He Will Never Choose You!

Whatever!

I find myself staring at my phone screen, uncertain of what to write. This whole situation is incredibly awkward. I can't shake the feeling that I've done something wrong without him being fully on board with it. Or have I? My parents planted a seed of doubt, and once doubt takes hold, it's hard to let go. The weight of the consequences hangs heavy on my shoulders, and I can't help but question my actions and the potential impact they may have had on Jacob's feelings. I am going to die. Whatever, consent. Consent is a must, I remind myself, trying to anchor my thoughts to the importance of respecting boundaries.

"Okay, Vi, maybe you're not the most creative person on earth, but this isn't about you. It's about creating a safe environment for everyone," I can almost hear my mum's voice saying, her words a reminder of the bigger picture and the significance of consent and emotional well-being. And me? Well, I just want to disappear, to escape from the embarrassment and face the consequences head-on.

"Stop being so dramatic."

"Holy shit, you scared me. What are you doing here?" I exclaim, caught off guard by James' sudden presence in my room.

"I've been standing in your doorway for at least five minutes now, but you were deeply engrossed in a conversation with yourself about consent, dying, and some... seeds?" James chuckles, making his way to the armchair by the window, settling in after removing the cushion that was blocking his complete immersion into my favorite spot in the house.

"Your dad called me and mentioned something about emotional distress, saying you might need a friend. I guess he doesn't realize we saw each other less than an hour ago?"

"James, thanks for coming over, but you don't have to stay. I'm doing just fine."

"He said you were crying."

"How could he? DAD? DAAAAD?" I yell, but James quickly jumps up from the armchair beside me and covers my mouth.

"Vi, be grateful that your parents care about your well-being. Not everyone has that luxury, so quit acting like a spoiled brat."

"What's gotten into you today? You're being passive-aggressive. Did I do something to upset you? Are my boobs that offensive to you? Dude, they're just boobs." My answer comes out muffled and strange since his hand is still covering my mouth.

James removes his hand, a mix of exasperation and amusement on his face. He stares directly into my eyes, then turns around and returns to the armchair, trying to defuse the tension that had momentarily filled the room.

"Stop talking about your boobs, would you?"

"Boobs, boobs, boooooobs," I reply in a childish manner. But what do I care? It's James, not Jacob. He already knows me.

"You really know how to make things awkward, Vi," James says, rolling his eyes, though a hint of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Like seriously, why do you bring up your boobs? It's not like they're the eighth wonder of the world."

I pout playfully, pretending to be offended. "Hey now, my boobs deserve some recognition! They're pretty awesome, if I do say so myself."

He smirks, shaking his head. "Well, they are... I mean, just... let's get back to the real issue here. You and your crazy antics at that party. What were you thinking, Vi?"

I shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. "Who needs thinking when you've got spontaneous fun? Besides, it's not like I planned to go viral or anything. That video was just meant for our entertainment, you know?" I kinda lied. I didn't know what I was thinking. Ask the vodka.

James raises an eyebrow, his tone slightly teasing. "Oh, so you thought yelling out slurs and engaging in questionable tongue action was just entertaining and posting it on TikTok was just for your entertainment? Sounds like a wild party, alright."