I looked through David's Instagram. Like his favorite song, I started from the bottom and worked my way up through his photos. I silently squealed at selfies he took (which were mostly dorky and consisted of him making funny faces), and made mental notes about his interests and hobbies. He seemed to really like photography, as he took pictures of various sunsets and sunrises. Each was complete with a unique filter and had tags such as #beautiful and #breathtaking. He used many other words. Each started with different letters of the alphabet and conveyed to me how passionate he was about life. He also took pictures of his footwear purchases. He wore Sperrys during the summer and Janoskis during the winter.
Looking through David's Instagram almost gave me a sense of security. He felt more tangible, and less like a ridiculous fantasy. I smiled as I scrolled through more of his pictures. With every picture, whether it was an outing with his friends, photography, a selfie, or dancing (which he was also passionate about), I felt more attached to him and more like I belonged with him. I took a deep breath and went back to my Instagram profile.
I usually didn't log into Instagram unless homecoming or turnabout had happened the night before. I usually went with my girlfriends: Sonya, Anna, Jeanne, and Jess. We jokingly called ourselves the Fox Force Five. It was a Pulp Fiction reference, because the five of us adored Quentin Tarantino movies. I don't want to sound conceited and say we were "popular," but we did always go with five or six other girls to homecoming and turnabout, and we always had dates. It was January, and turnabout wasn't for two months, but I knew I was asking David. I looked up at my “following” and “follow” count. I was following 219 people on Instagram, and I had 160 followers. I looked at each of my photos; they each had 20 to 30 likes. Like I said, they were mostly pictures from homecoming and turnabout, with the occasional selfie when I wasn't feeling cramped. I did feel cramped most of the time. I swear, your period is supposed to come once a month. Mine comes like every three weeks. It totally sucks.
I took another deep breath. David had 500 followers on Instagram, and was only following 240 people. That means, with the exception of 30 celebrities he followed on Instagram (I had counted and recounted this), he only followed 42% of the people who followed him. Crap. My odds weren't great, but I was relatively popular. Ugh, that makes me sound so conceited. David was much more popular than me, though. His 500 followers as opposed to my 160 followers was irrefutable proof of that. I figured I would take my chances, though. On the off chance he would scroll through my Instagram, I don't think he'd be disappointed with what he saw. I'm cute. I have long and straight dirty blonde hair, a delicate face and bright blue eyes. My teeth were so flawless that I never needed braces. I peered at the clock. It was 11:19 PM.
I'm a little superstitious. Let's just wait for the clock to strike 11:20 PM for good measure.
I sat for a moment, eyeing the clock on my phone. When the clock struck 11:20, I took one last deep breath. Worst case scenario, he didn't follow me back. Hopefully he does, and hopefully he likes one of my selfies. I started hyperventilating in anticipation of him following me back and his imminent like on one of my selfies.
I'm so pretty. It's bound to happen. I have American Studies with him, and he looks back at me sometimes and smiles. He has to know who I am! I squealed, and peered at the clock one last time. It was 11:21 now. Crap. Well, I'm not waiting four more minutes to follow my crush on Instagram. It was now or never. I quickly tapped the blue follow button. When I took my finger away, the button was green. I was following David on Instagram.
Queen Yolo. I am the Queen Yolo. I had the guts to follow my crush on Instagram, and he was obviously going to follow me back. After all, I'm very pretty. He was bound to like one of my selfies. Maybe it would be the one from last month in my garden? That selfie was actually no filter. My hair looked perfect, my jacket was really cute and matched my eyes, and my smile was completely natural. On top of that, my teeth were totally white and looked perfect. I went back to my Instagram profile and clicked on that photo. It had 38 likes. That's it. That's the one he's going to like.
David is going to like my no filter winter garden selfie, and maybe if I’m lucky, he’ll even comment on it. What if he leaves a comment, complimenting me? I would actually melt. Like legit I would actually melt. I don't even know how I'd respond to him without sounding like a brainless bimbo. I think a "thanks" would suffice, but would I use an exclamation mark or a backwards smiley face? I feel like a backwards smiley face would make me look ingenuine, and an exclamation mark would make me look unintelligent. I'm in AP Calculus AB and AP Psychology. I am in two AP classes; I am fairly intelligent. I hope to show that to David. Maybe I would just use a normal smiley face. That seems the most natural.
"Thanks :)"
That looks good. I was so caught up in the excitement that I put my phone on its charger and fell fast asleep. David followed me on Instagram at some point. I knew he would. I had to focus hard to make sure he had, though. I was checking my phone with my telekinesis. It was an ability I had inexplicably acquired at some point after I’d fallen asleep. He hadn't liked or commented on my no filter winter garden selfie yet. I had to do something while waiting for him to like that particular selfie. Maybe if I kept myself occupied long enough, he would like and comment on all of my selfies, and maybe even like a few of my homecoming and turnabout pictures too? It was definitely possible. After all, he had followed me back on Instagram.
I decided that to kill the time, I would apply my telekinetic ability to other things. The next thing I knew, I was in the park. I looked around. I was sitting on the hardwood bench I typically sat on when I went to the park. There was no snow on the ground. That’s odd; Narnia was outside my house before I fell asleep. Frost, however, kissed the grass. The pond was frozen. The rocks, usually damp with water from the pond, were dry. I knew what my objective was. While waiting for David to comment on my no filter winter garden selfie, I would use my telekinesis to unfreeze the water and dampen the rocks.
The dry rocks looked so sad and somehow incomplete without that added dampness. I had to concentrate, and immediately I felt my mind grow hot. I focused intently, and my mind grew hotter and hotter. As my mind grew hotter, I could feel heat arise from my body. Perfect, all I needed was to build up a significant amount of heat and I could apply it to the pond. I shut my eyes and focused on the heat building up in my mind. I wanted the heat arising from my spirit to heat the pond and melt the ice. The water would then dampen the rocks and make the park feel complete. I repeated this process in my head. It was such a simple task, but I couldn’t seem to apply the heat to the pond.
I began to sweat. At this point, there was too much heat in my mind. I wasn't sure if I could get all of this heat to the pond without catching fire. I shut my eyes even tighter, focusing on the ice in the pond and the heat in my mind. I couldn't do it. I began panting. I felt my mind growing hotter and hotter. Sweat streamed down my face, but it wouldn’t cool me down. My mind was too hot. I was too hot. I was in trouble. I began to scream.
All at once, the pond thawed. I had to stop screaming. I was in so much pain. I couldn’t resist. I screamed in agony as the unbearable heat overwhelmed my body.
As my screams grew louder and harder to contain, the pond started to boil. The sky had grown red, but... it was supposed to be morning. The heat in my body had set the world ablaze. Fire inexplicably began to surround me. I looked back at the pond. It had evaporated.
The sky was an impossibly lurid shade of red. I did my best to evade fire as I ran from the park, as I ran from the heat. Eventually, fire spread to all areas of the park and the pond. I screamed as I caught fire. I was going to burn to death. It felt foolish to consider at this daunting moment, but I wouldn't even get to see if David had commented on any of my selfies. Then, flames consumed me.
I gasped and sat up. Flames no longer surrounded me. I was in my room again. I had been dreaming. Christ, it was hot in here. I was sweating. I pulled off my sheets, akin to those of a bed wetter’s. My clothes were nearly soaked in sweat. I got up from my bed and walked over to the air vent. It was open. Hot air poured in quickly. I shut the vent, and took a deep breath.
I walked to my bedroom door and opened it. I stepped out into the hallway. It was freezing. I gazed at the thermostat. It was 69° in the hallway, quite a comfortable contrast from my bedroom. What time was it anyhow? I walked in to my bedroom and took my phone off the charger. It was 12:44 PM. I had slept for thirteen hours. Holy crap. I had been pretty sleep deprived the last couple weeks. Besides feeling mildly groggy, being soaked in sweat, and having severe cottonmouth, I felt great. There were no notifications from Instagram. Maybe David just hadn't been online? I unlocked my phone and immediately opened the Instagram app. I had never been so displeased to see a loading screen. My heart pounded rather audibly as Instagram took forever to load.
At the top of my feed was a picture David had posted three minutes ago with his brand new girlfriend, May. I felt my heart sink. I felt empty, ugly, and rejected. Tears began to well up in my eyes. I was unbelievably close to throwing my phone at the wall. I decided against it. I’d had my phone replaced last month for a broken screen.
In the picture, May kissed David’s cheek. David smiled wide and genuinely for the camera. Suddenly, I hated his smile. Even more, I hated May. Damn, I thought. I am just the epitome of a moody white girl right now.
A lone tear made its way down my face. I went to David's Instagram. His “following” count was now 161. I tapped his “following” count. David had just followed May on Instagram. That stung. I wiped my face of warm, woeful tears. How could this have happened? I had asked countless people. They all told me David had never had a girlfriend, that he didn’t like anyone, and that I almost certainly had a chance with him despite our differences in popularity. I let out a bitter scoff. I went back to my Instagram profile.
An ugly, bitter scowl was glued to my face. I clicked my following tab. David's name was at the very top of my following tab. He had changed his default picture to the picture of him and May. Viewing that picture filled me with so much hate, anger, and jealousy. It caused me literal physical pain just looking at it. The green “following” button appeared to the right of David’s Instagram name. I let out one final bitter scoff. I was starting to feel sorry for myself. I hesitated a moment, and then I tapped the green “following” button with my middle finger. When I took my finger away, the button was blue. I was no longer following David.