'Can we make out?'
the number of times that this question had repeated itself inside my head constantly passed as an imagination. it couldn't be true could it? but yet again he was standing right here. in front of me. and that question was as realistic as ever. He had just asked me that. I wasn't imagining things. I wasn't thinking too much. Enrique had just asked me to make out with him.
' what?' and yet I still asked that question. even though I understood perfectly what he said.And he stares at me. is confidence still at bay. isn't shaken. He isn't afraid. The way he looks at me almost makes me cry in embarrassment and fear.
