"You... Y-You are so dense... so oblivious!"

My eyes brimmed with tears. Still, I looked him straight in the eye and blurted those words out.

I couldn't contain my emotions longer. My balled fists trembled at my sides, trying to suppress myself from doing anything violent against him. I was angry with him, yet at the same time, I hated myself. If I just didn't fall in love with this idiot, everything would be normal. Everything would be fine.

I never thought it would reach this point. I was frustrated and I was denying to myself that I've fallen for Mark. I hated the feeling... Because I know he doesn't deserve these feelings. He's dense, immature and stupid; he takes everything as a joke!

Tears continued to flow from my eyes as I blinked. Somehow my vision cleared up, and I saw his usually bright, emerald eyes droop to confusion and hurt. He opened his mouth to say something, but then reluctantly sealed his lips and stared worriedly at me like the imbecile he is.

"Mark… I hate you!"

I furiously snatched the letter from him and ran away after roaring out those last words.

Why? Why can't he just give me the answers I wanted? If he doesn't like me, then why not totally reject me? Why does he need to tell me that he doesn't want to reject anybody for now? I've told him countless times that I am frustrated already with my place. I've told him that I'm struggling, that I'm tired of waiting. Why can't he give me the rejection that I want?

He is so mean!

I was almost out of breath when I stopped near my watermill. My tears couldn't stop from falling. In my trembling hand was the almost crumpled letter I wrote for him a day ago—one thing that I regret. If I only knew that he wouldn't be cooperating well with my favor, I shouldn't have given him the stupid letter.

I sat down by the grassy patch and tried to recollect myself. I've stressed myself too much with him.

Carefully, I opened the letter and read it.

Yeah, so hi Mark.

I know that you know that… okay whatever. That I like you. A lot. Since this winter right? For some reason, even though you're dense, you actually felt it. It's funny… And this is awkward. But I guess this would be my first and last letter for you. And I would be honest here.

First of all, I want to thank you for being such a great friend. When I've no one to talk to, or when no one's there to listen to me ranting, you're always there, being goofy and cheerful as usual. And that's good, because it makes me feel better. For making me laugh at the most stupid things… thanks.

I don't know. I don't know why I get so miserable and uncomfortable every time the thought of you hits me. I hate the feeling- my mind gets so blank and I feel my temperature go up way than it should.

This feeling is not for you. Definitely not for someone like you.

You're not much of a mature guy after all. You take everything as a joke! I'm pissed at those times… You're too carefree. You're not even a gentleman. Goddess, I wonder if I need to ask our guy friends to help you be a real man. You're too much of a boy.

And you're a big bully. Period.

I could go on and rant about all your stupidities and flaws and would never get tired of complaining.

But then, there are always things that would counter all those negative things about you.

You might not be the most mature guy, but talking with you keeps me smiling. I always get the feeling of nostalgia, excitement and all those happy emotions when talking to you. You make me forget that I have serious problems to settle with- you pull me into a vortex to make me relax for a while.

You're not a gentleman. I could go on carrying a sack of boulders without you even thinking to help me. But when I see you focused on one thing- practicing, studying, playing, farming or whatever- I could see how hardworking you are. Well, maybe you just don't like to do housework and all, but you are a hard worker. And I could see that every time you come around the ranch to learn farming. And maybe, the time hasn't come yet for you to be a "man" yet. I wish I could be the person who can make you into a man.

And you being a bully? Probably on the exterior I hate it... but deep inside, I love it. Because it's who you are, and that's probably why you're you.

I like you even though you're dense, stupid, immature, overly carefree and a bully. I like you even though the girls on these islands surround you every day and I get hella jealous. I like you even though you don't take things seriously. I like you and your blond hair, vibrant emerald eyes and red scarf. I like you even though I'm just your good friend.

Who am I kidding… Mark, I love you and I hate it.

OKAY, DARN IT.

I actually said all of these. These are all the things I refuse to say. Things that I refuse anybody- especially YOU, to know. Because it's so damn embarrassing to admit that I actually like you. And I'm frustrated because of all people, why do I need to fall in love with someone like you? You, who I know I have no chance with. At all.

You know, to end this, why don't you do me a favor? Go on, reject me. Mark. Give me the harshest rejection. I can take it, I promise. Maybe if you reject me, I can finally set myself free from this misery. It won't be nice, but it would really help you know. I'm sick of waiting, and I'm tired of being in love with someone like you. Because frankly, I know I don't deserve you… And I know we don't have that thing to be a couple or whatever. Just. Please. Reject me, okay? Then let's not talk to each other for a while… So how about meeting up by the seashore for my request on Sunday?

Yeah. This sounds stupid. But it would be more stupid if I still hope for you to like me back, right? That would make my frustration even worse. Bye.

Chelsea

Then we met up earlier, just as I asked… I prepared myself. Well, I was surprised that he brought the letter with him, too.

Goddess, I didn't expect him to be so… nice. I wanted a harsh rejection. But then again, what the hell, this is Mark who we're talking about, what did I expect? He doesn't take anything seriously! Even with the awkward conversation earlier, he had his usual cheerful grin plastered on his face.

"Hey, Chelsea… I just read the letter last night… Like, around midnight… Ha ha… Thank you for… uh, you know. I really do appreciate it. Thanks for being so caring especially when I'm in a bad mood or something."

"…yeah. But you know… We're here now by the beach because of my request, right?"

"Rejection… For now… I don't really know."

"Eh?"

"I don't want to reject anyone."

"B-But… Mark, you know that…"

"Sorry Chelsea, but really… I don't want to reject you. Or anyone else."

"Is that it? Or maybe you just don't know how to do it? Is it really hard to say, 'Sorry, I don't like you so you can stop liking me and let's just be friends.' You can just repeat that to satisfy me!"

"Sorry, I don't like you so you can stop liking me and let's just be friends…Pfft. Ha ha! This… what we're doing is funny… Ha ha ha!"

"Mark, you idiot! Don't say that while laughing! I want it to be serious!"

"Fine… Ahem. 'Sorry, I don't like you so you can stop liking me and let's just be friends.' Pfft… Really, Chelsea. We don't need to do this."

"You... Y-You are so dense... so oblivious! Mark…. I hate you!"

I smacked my forehead at the memory of our conversation earlier. All I can think of is that he's stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid and stupid! Even though he's repeated what I've said… I couldn't feel the painful rejection I was anticipating. It came across to me as a joke instead.

Life is miserable.

He was just an ordinary guy at first—nothing special, just the average, happy-go-lucky guy. We became close friends and bam! For whatever reason, my feelings were growing more intensely. I love him, every stupid bit of him, and really, I hate the feeling.

So now what? I've asked for rejection, he was hesitating at first, I forced him to repeat the magnificent rejection message, he's done it in a laughing manner and I got angry and ran back to my ranch because he wasn't serious about it. What do I do now?

I stood up, still holding the letter and sighed heavily. My eyes were puffy and aching from all the upset crying earlier. Whew. I feel a bit better, though I'm still confused on what to do now after all that happened. Maybe I should just hide from him and not talk to him forever. At least, I got what I want, even though it wasn't really a serious rejection…

I looked up at the orange heavens; it was nearing sunset. I suddenly remembered that I wasn't done cleaning my farm for the summer. I shook my head and motivated myself to just work, work and work. I crumpled the letter and shoved it grumpily in my backpack.

As I took out my sickle to scythe out the spring crops and weeds, a firm hand grasped my wrist from doing so.

My heart skipped a beat. I knew all too well who was behind me.

"Just leave me. I'm working." I hissed.

"But you're exhausted." Mark countered, still holding my wrist.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"I am not."

"You are."

"Goddammit Mark, I'm fine!" I snapped.

He went in front of me and sighed. "Chelsea, you're not. Look… You know. You should take a break."

I refused to look at his face—innocent and untroubled; because I know I'll even like him more. Besides, if I don't control myself, I might suddenly pull him and kiss him. I get those urges at times… Yes, it is embarrassing.

But seriously, I know what I have to do now.

"…Mark. I'm sorry. Okay."

He chuckled and released my wrist. "Ha ha ha, it's okay."

"But you're still stupid!"

"Eh? I'm not…"

"Yes you are. You're still dense and stupid and—" I gave up denying and contradicting myself. I'm really just making a fool out of myself. I still liked him. "Ugh… Fine. I'm sorry. Again. I'll be normal. Normally violent and mean and whatever."

"Okay, good girl." He flashed a smile.

"What? 'Good girl'? You're treating me like a pet!"

"Ha ha! Aren't dogs or pets part of the family?"

"Go die, you evil idiot!" I yelled at him but a grin stretched across my face. I guess, I don't want to be rejected… Maybe it's better off this way. I lightly punched him in the gut.

"Ow… Hey, where's the letter?"

"Why?" I eyed him.

"Nothing."

I rolled my eyes and pulled it out of my backpack. "I'm regretting that I wrote this."

He seized it from me and chuckled. "I'm claiming what's mine."

"H-Hey! I wrote that—"

"For me. And you gave it to me already but then took it away. So I'm just reclaiming it!" He stuck out a tongue at me and casually walked out of my ranch, whistling.

I stood alone, dumbfounded. What is running in his mind, I wonder. Mark can be very unpredictable… He always takes my breath away… Even though I see him as a dense, awkward person, I could never really tell what his true feelings are.

Mark… You really are something... you lovable dense idiot.