His name is Ethan.
I should probably stop calling him Mr. Hottie. If I don’t, I might slip and call him that to his face. That would be humiliating.
I’m fucking twenty years old… I’m not a child anymore. But when I’m sitting in Chem beside Mr. Hottie… oops, I mean Ethan, I feel like I’m thirteen years old again. It’s almost impossible for me to keep from blushing and getting all giggly when he talks to me. Especially with that voice. Even when he whispers it’s sexy as hell. Maybe especially when he whispers. And when he says my name. And when he says chemistry things. Or when he says… anything. God, I need to stop. Fuck… he probably has a girlfriend.
But it’s not just his voice… or his whispers. It’s just him. He’s so sweet. And he’s funny. He makes the same stupid kinds of jokes I make. I love that. We got in a little bit of trouble because of it this morning. He was drawing faces in his notebook during class while Professor Doctor Strange was talking. I think he was bored. But he was adorable… and the expressions on his little faces were funny. And I kind of let a little laugh slip out. And so did he. And we got caught.
Totally worth it, though.
• • •
‘Dear Diary’ is fiction based on actual events.
Any similarities to your college life is purely coincidental.
Any similarities to mine is entirely intentional.
©2018 what sandra thinks