He laughs boisterously and smacks the table.
"Do you have to draw so much attention to yourself everytime?"
He looks at me incredulously. "Uh, yeah man." He scoffs. "So, what's up?"
I contemplate just how much to tell him.
Jasper and I go way back. Before I became a self-diagnosed stalker...person.
I'm not a danger to anyone but myself really. I think.
I open my mouth to ask about the Ireland situation and it happens. Word vomit out the wazoo.
I tell him everything.
Everything.
Not because it just comes out. But because I feel like I've been keeping a big secret from someone whom I'll never (out loud) admit to being my best friend.
"Shit. Well what are you waiting for? Wait, why the hell have you waited this long to talk to her? Wait, why are you watching - ?"
I hold my hands up to stop him. "Jasper, I didn't plan to act like a creepy stalker over this girl, it -"
"Just hit you. Yeah. This is eighth grade, Samantha Ryan, all over again. What the fuck?"
I wave my hands around and open and close my mouth. I don't fucking know. "Jasper. If I knew what the fuck, I would tell you."
"Ninth grade, Amber Smithsen."
"Jazz."
"Tenth grade, Samantha Ryan and Beverly Thomas. Samantha grew way the fuck up so we all went back to that ass."
I nod in agreeance and shrug.
"Lena Tarny, Crystal Bash, -"
"I get it." I hiss at him.