Hey guys wassup.
Ugh. Gross intro.
But anyways, though you're craving for a normal, un-story post, I couldn't resist. Sorry. I just like writing stories. Geez.
I'll put a joke here, though. :D
Q: What did one plate say to another?
A: "Lunch is on me!"
Credits to Chris Carter, AKA iamchrisc, or Dave Day's Best Friend.

- Stop reading at this point if my stories blind ya. I know they're bad. -

“I’ll walk you back.”
She would never forget how he would throw on a dark gray jacket over his T-shirt and grab his wallet and iPod before shutting the door of his house behind him.
One of her habits was that she liked to plug into her iPod when she was walking. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to Will. On the contrary, she loved the sound of his voice, whether he was talking about how Venetian Princess looked like a doll, or how Kevin Wu held his chopsticks wrongly. It wasn’t even because she had nothing to say. They could talk for hours, whether on the phone or face-to-face.
The only reason why she listened to her iPod when she was walking home with him was that he would get annoyed with her. He would see her looking for a nicer song to listen to, realize that she wasn’t really paying attention to him, and take her iPod away, and grab her hand. She would give him a look, and ask for her iPod back, but he would give that grin, and hold her hand all the way back.
That grin. She smiled thinking of it, realizing that Will never found out the real reason why she was found with white earphones plugged into her ears. She shook herself out of her reverie, looking around. Was she lost? It took her a moment to realize that she had turned at the wrong corner, being caught up in thoughts she had told herself to leave behind. She reached up to readjust her cap, and turned around. She almost ran straight into a person, and she looked up at the figure, wanting to apologize.
She looked up and got a shock. The face she was looking at was extremely familiar. He had a squared jaw and tanned skin, and his eyes, the eyes that reminded her of Anthony Padilla.
Running a hand through his hair and letting his yellow wristband fall further down towards his elbow, he gave an uncertain laugh, obviously not used to the silence. They needed time, a lot of time; to catch up on what really happened five years ago. There was no time more suitable than this, and they both knew it. Will knew it, and so did she.
“I’ll walk you back.”