05

News flash, I learned his name and was told to be his friend. I can barely look him in his eyes. And I am expected to be his friend? Embarrassing, right? Bonkers, I think I am better off admiring him from afar, but it never hurts to try, right?

Day after day, I tried my best to talk to him. Face-to-face, but my anxiety keeps kicking in. His stare leaves me tongue-tied and a blushing mess. I do not think black people can blush, but all I know is that my cheeks are burning. There has to be a better way to approach him.

My family had his number before all this friend commotion started. My parents refused to let me get it from them, so I had only one option. My beloved sister had his number. I got straight to texting him. "Hey Jeremiah, it's me Morgan sorry for not being able to talk to you for the last two days I was kinda shy," is what I sent him.

I sound like such a wimp. Why did I say all of that? Hours passed, and no answer from him. Yep, I have made a fool of myself. He had no interest in being friends with me at all. Maybe if I sleep to forget about this disaster, my anxiety will decrease. But I do hope that he answers in the morning.

I shouldn't be this hooked on a guy I barely know.