unfinish

you're thinking, ugh, I hate her. I see you. I see her. I see you looking at her. the way your mind works is on your face, the way your lip curls, the way you wrinkle your nose every time she tosses her hair. you're thinking, she's so ugly. you're thinking, it doesn't make any sense.

you're thinking, how?

I'd tell you how, but Jesus, woman, I don't know. and I'll let you in on a secret: she doesn't either. all she knows is she got lucky. didn't you see that? you were staring enough.

yes, staring. I don't mean that long, continuous look, where nothing could distract you. I mean those sidelong glances, the way your eyes linger when you pretend you're just scanning the hallway, that look.

but oh, honey, now you're thinking about it, and that won't do. you're thinking, no, she's not ugly, she's so pretty, no wonder. where will that thinking get you?

nowhere. that's where.