Ryan

He's looking at me with that expression that makes me turn away. Its when he slants his head a bit and lowers his eyes and looks at me with just a small slant in his eyelid, and a knowing smile, as if we're sharing some great secret between just the two of us. I squirm and look away. Of course, he doesn't notice. He's always oblivious to my level of uneasiness. He thinks we're just wonderful.

I've already told him we're just friends. But that was in August, and now its November and he doesn't remember. At least, that's the way it seems by the way he's looking at me. I manage a friendly smile. Friend being the key word. I don't think he gets it.

"So, what are the three things you think you're best at?" I ask casually. I always have to keep the conversation going. Ryan's not much of a talker. He shrugs and looks out into the distance.

"I dunno. I'm not good at much I guess." He says. Ryan doesn't have an impressive repertoire of talents, I know, but I know he has abilities. His father is a carpenter. I know he knows how to build lots of things. And he likes to take pictures. I saw them once-they weren't very good, but he thought they were. Well, there was one or two creative ones.

"come one, you know you know!" I push. He just shakes his head.

"I guess not much." he repeats, "but its whatever." Ryan always says "its whatever." He looks at me admiringly.

"What are the three things you're best at?" He asks. I shrug. If he won't play, neither will I.

"I don't know. I always start things and fail at them." I say. He shakes his head.

"I can think of three things easy. You know tons of music, and don't forget your 96% SATs. And your fashion." He adds. I could have told him those, but they aren't nearly as impressive as he thinks they are. He just doesn't know a lot of creative girls. He thinks I'm brilliant.

"Not really," I say easily, "there are tons of people who know tons about music. I guess the fashion is more than average, but I prolly shouldn't spend so long at it. You can build, that's more practical." I reply. Ryan needs his self esteem boosted a bit, but its a tricky process. He already thinks we're dating, if I compliment him too much, he might whip out an engagement ring. All his siblings were engaged at eighteen. He shakes his head and insists I'm talented.

Oh Ryan.