33 | quick maths

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YOU EVER FRIEND-ZONE SOMEONE AND THEY simply refuse to be friend-zoned?

This is exactly my predicament as I sit across Aryan Shankar in the UCLA library at noon on a Thursday.

We're not friends. But we're studying together.

Well, he's studying. I'm texting. And sneaking glances at him while he flips the page, the sound of the paper rustling and the sight of his brow stitched together in narrow concentration, his lower lip caught between his teeth, soon let go as a lightbulb flares behind his eyes and he works his pen, the glow of his open laptop washing against his cheekbones is distracting and even if I wanted to study, I wouldn't be able to while sitting across from him. I watch as he, deep in thought, twirls a ballpoint pen in hand, then raps his knuckles on the wooden desk beside his calculator and it feels like pure sex. I'm down bad. Very bad.

My screen flashes with a new text from me and Dima's ongoing conversation. 

Where are you rn? — Dima

Dima had received the scoop of Sunday's lady's room affairs from Kajal. After asking me some very hard questions with words like dating and serious and relationship, I'd shut him up. Even if the topic of conversation was particularly trifling for me, I was glad to be speaking to Dima at all. Though, I know eventually, I'd have to fill in what Kajal left out. I have to tell him. But for now, I only peer between my screen, aglow with Dima's texts, and Aryan as I type back a reply.

Library — Mira

Why are you in the library? — Dima

Yes, exactly. What am I doing here? I don't have any more classes for the day and Dima knows that which makes my response especially revealing.

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