Don't you find it awkward when you pee, especially in those public bathrooms where everyone can hear you because the sound echoes? I do. It's even worse when you've been holding it in all day, because when you finally let it out, it's like Niagara Falls in the toilet.

Now don't even get me started on pooping. That's the worst. Everyone is forced to listen to your plopping when your turds fall in. Especially when you're constipated and can't help but make grunting noises to encourage yourself to get it all out. But, if you're that much of a boss and can suffer silently, even with tears streaming down your face, it's impossible to hide the smell. Literally everyone in there knows you just took a dump. What if there's no toilet paper?

That's why I poop at home.

So, anyway, I'm October Isabella Jackson. Seriously. My name is no joke; it's October, like the month. My mum says my father named me this because he wanted me to be "different". You know how people are always naming their children April, May, or even August? I got stuck with October. My birthday isn't even in October, so the reasoning behind my name is still a mystery to me. 

I'm pretty sure my parents just hated me and decided to ruin my life forever in a seemingly innocent way. Eventually, I came up with the nickname Belly, for myself, and it stuck. It's kind of awkward being called October, you know? Besides, I'm pretty sure I was doing everyone else a favor too. Just imagine how many crazy looks you'd get if you were to call out "Hey, October!".

You're welcome. 

Life as an awkward sixteen-year-old does have its downfalls. For example, it has scored me no boyfriends, no popularity points, and inevitable embarrassment. After being this way for so long, I'm justified in thinking that nothing was going to change, but the moment I became good and comfortable with my apparent destiny of being socially out of place, a new thing happened.

Well, I guess calling it new would be redundant, considering it was just as awkward as everything I'd experienced, except worse.

We'll call it...awkwardness on steroids. 

Keith looked deep into my eyes as he held out his hand to me. "October?" His exotic blue orbs were cautious and questioning, waiting for my answer.

I placed my hand in his as he slid his other hand around my waist, yanking me towards him so that his chest pressed against mine. We collided, a small gasp emitting from my lips. Holding my hand firmly, he took a step forward with his left foot and I took a step back with my right.

"One and two and three and four..." he counted quietly as we salsa danced around the dance floor.

"Five, six, seven, eight." Keith extended his arm for me to twirl around on my toes before pulling me back into him, continuing our dance.

Oh, you were probably thinking that this was some dramatic love scene. Like we were a couple that was deeply in love with each other or something. And you were like, "Oh, so she does have a boyfriend!"

Haha, no.

There was nothing intimate about our relationship. He was just my dance partner at school, for the time being. My schedule was getting changed soon since I already had my needed P.E credits. But it wasn't like I didn't think he was hot. Well, considering he was the most popular senior at the school, why wouldn't he be hot? He had the typical quiffed golden blonde hair, pretty blue eyes, full lips, and a lean figure. Honestly, God must've really been on my side for blessing me with this Greek god as a dance partner. Besides seeing him on almost a daily basis, I could actually touch him without getting a possible restraining order.

He swooped me down towards the ground, my hair brushing the floor as he dipped me. Then he pulled me back up, twirled me, and now was time for our pose. We had practiced this millions of times before, but me being me, I screwed it up. The plan was for me to step in front of him with my arms out and doing the 'jazz-hands' thing, but I instead whacked him in the nose. My finger went so far up his left nostril that I could feel his memories, but hey, no boogers.

He was literal perfection, like, who doesn't have boogers?

"Good job!" Mr. Santiago praised while Keith made some weird gurgling sound from my finger's penetration. He was the gorgeous dance teacher that I'd been crushing on since freshman year. That accent he had made my ovaries shrivel and his face made me want to punch myself in the throat. What was with me and crushing on people I definitely couldn't have? I swear I'm going to get someone put in jail.

Once Keith finished his dramatic tribal dance of pain, he twitched his nose back and forth, coming to stand in front of me again. I just looked at him, not even bothering to apologize because this stuff happens almost every day and I'm sure we were both used to it by now. "Nice work, October," he said with a pained expression, still managing to flash me that 100-watt smile that was brighter than my future.

I just shrugged, knowing that he was lying. "We could've done better," I replied with, him nodding in agreement. "And also, I told you to call me Belly." Maybe, just maybe we could get through a single routine without falling on my face, him twisting his ankle, or blood dripping from—oh. "Your...your nose." I pointed at the center of Keith's face just as the red trickled to his lip, and he quickly pinched his nose. I grimaced, slowly backing away.

"Hey man, it's all good!" He exclaimed in a nasal voice and flashing me a thumbs up before hurrying out of the dance room, the grimace still prominent on his face.

"Sorry!" I called after him. At least I wasn't the one who got hurt this time. While Keith nursed his bloody nose, I lingered in the back of the room to watch the rest of the class couple up and perform their way more coordinated routine. I don't understand why something always had to go wrong with us, I mean, we were just as good as everyone else. Or maybe we were just good at screwing up.

Keith returned moments later with a wad of tissues shoved up his nose, yet he still managed to look unnecessarily gorgeous. When he spotted me, he advanced towards me with those long-legged strides, clapping his hands a few times. "October, c'mon. We have to try this again," he said.

I frowned up at him as he stood above me with his arms folded. He was the only person that called me by my real name, and quite frankly, it was seriously grating on me. I've told him millions of times to call me by the nickname that literally everyone else does, but for some reason, he just couldn't seem to do that. I couldn't wait until I could legally change the name on my birth certificate. I'd change it to something more sophisticated like Olivia or Princess Cordelia III.

Before I could correct him about my name, he stooped down and grabbed both of my arms, easily pulling me to my feet. My mouth dropped open and I widened my eyes, trying to give him my best "I'm offended" look. Just because I was small didn't mean he could just pick me up whenever he chooses. I have rights. "You can't just go around picking people up!"

"Don't frown." Keith pouted exaggeratedly as he traced his finger across my forehead. "You'll get wrinkles on your pretty little head."

I scoffed and slapped his hand away, even though I was overjoyed that he was willingly touching me and that little pout thing he had going on may or may not have been giving me heart palpitations. "Whatever," I muttered as he placed a hand on my waist, and took my hand with his other.

***

After dance class I had pre-calculus, and not saying that I hated it, but if I were to become President and I had to make the choice of saving the world or severely punishing any facility that allowed pre-calc to be a thing, we would all cease to exist.

I guess the main problem I had was with my teacher. Ms. Bell didn't even really teach us, she just gave us a bunch of notes to copy and memorize. Last time I checked, a teacher's job was to actually teach, I mean, it's literally in the name.

As I stepped inside the classroom, I strode to my seat in the back next to my best friend, Joseph, who suspiciously looked exactly like Nick Robinson. They were obviously long lost twins, but he was still in the denial stage and refused to acknowledge that he was related to a celebrity and could potentially acquire millions of dollars.

When I sat down next to him, he smiled smugly. "How'd your date with Keith go?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

I narrowed my eyes at him as I dropped my backpack at my feet. "Oh, you know, we went in the teacher's office and snogged each other's faces off," I answered dryly, giving him the straightest face I could muster. Shoot, I wish I could have been that lucky.

Joseph widened his eyes as I took my seat. "Ooh, you better hope Ashley doesn't find out." He waggled his finger and pursed his lips, looking like the younger male version of my grandmother.

Ashley was Keith's girlfriend, and in case you hadn't guessed, she was literally the definition of perfect, which made her a perfect match for Keith. And they were the perfect couple reeking of perfection. She had the looks, and she definitely had the personality. She was so nice and bubbly all the time, it was impossible not to like her. It's like no one can not not be friends with her at some point.

Ms. Bell took her seat at the front of the class and turned on the projector, pulling up a PowerPoint. Big surprise there. "Okay you guys, this is on—shut up!" Her sudden deep and projecting voice immediately ceased the noise in the classroom, and she smiled in satisfaction. "As I was saying, this is on your postulates and theorems." She gestured at the board behind her. "You can learn them and pass the test, or you don't learn them and you fail." She shrugged and smiled at all of us in turn like the little evil thing she was.

Ugh, I loathed pre-calc, and not just because Ms.Bell was the possibly worst teacher in the world. I actually did fairly well in that class, but I hated it because you always had to explain things. It was a constant cycle of being asked to solve a problem, then solving the problem, then being told to explain why and you were just like...because it is. Like, why must everything have to have a reason? Why couldn't you just know things? I mean, it's basically the same as asking someone why they're breathing. 

An hour later, the dismissal bell rang and I packed up as quickly as I could. I really needed to go home and poop. I'd been holding it in since 5th period, which was not an easy task I tell you. Constantly clenching your butt is a real workout. My bum had better turn out pretty freakin' awesome after constantly having to do that. Life hack.  

"Hey Belly, do you want to hang out at my place?" Joseph asked, hurrying to catch up with me since I'd sprinted out of the classroom. "It's been a while since you've come over."

I looked up at my best friend, contemplating whether or not I should take him up on his offer. I mean, it has been a while since I've been over, and I'm sure his house misses me. But I was on a mission to expel my inner demons. "Uh, no," I quickly declined, shaking my head. "I've got some serious...work...to do when I get home." And by work, I meant poop my brains out.

Joseph frowned as he opened the door that led outside, allowing me to step out first. "Well, let me at least take you home," he offered. "You know your brother is never on time."

My brother, fortunately, didn't go to my school. My parents decided to put him in a private all-boys school. Since he'd be the next head of the house, they had high expectations for him, and giving him the highest education they could was one way of ensuring that he met those expectations.

That and they didn't want to risk putting us in the same building for hours at a time without their supervision. 

I shook my head again, this time giving him an apologetic smile. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks for pooping though." The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them, making me slap my forehead as I stopped in my tracks. "I mean wiping." My eyes grew wide. What the heck? "Thank you for offering," I said loudly and slowly, refusing to make eye contact after my rather disturbing outbursts.

Joseph was quiet for a moment, and when I looked back up at him he was smiling, indicating that he understood. "You know," he began casually. "You could just use my toilet."

"No!" I exclaimed, raising my finger. "I poop in my own toilet." The storm building up in my butt was churning, and some major clenching was going on. "Joseph, I really gotta poop."

"Well, poop then."

I squinted at him. "I can't just...just poop out here!"

"Do you want me to poop for you?"

"What? No!"

"Then I don't know what to tell you!"

I groaned and squeezed my cheeks—not the ones on my face—together. I knew I shouldn't have eaten those burritos at lunch today. They looked oddly suspicious, and I was certain that the meat wasn't supposed to clump together like that. Honestly, it didn't even smell like food...more like a wet dog. But hey, I still ate them anyway because I eat everything.

Joseph laughed at my misfortune before patting my shoulder, shaking his head sympathetically. "Okay, suit yourself." He walked away to the student parking lot, leaving me alone.

I thought it was so unfair that basically all the students in my grade were already driving with at least a learner's permit. I mean, why couldn't I drive? I was pretty sure that operating a vehicle wasn't that hard. Don't you just have to turn the steering wheel and press on the gas pedal? And then there's this thing called a gear shift, but I don't think that's important. Right? It's just a stick.

Soon, the school emptied out and I was one of the very few people left standing outside. Ugh, where was my stupid brother? I was very tempted to just squat right here under this tree and let everything out. I'd be helping the soil wouldn't I? Isn't poop, like, a natural fertilizer?

Since standing in one spot made it progressively harder to wait, I started walking around the trunk of the tree I was standing under. My strides turned into me just kicking my legs up as high as they could go, entertaining myself. Hmm, kind of like the cheerleaders. That's when I got an idea.

After glancing around to make sure no one was watching, I stretched my mouth into a wide smile and clasped my hands together. "Ready? Okay!" I said in an obnoxious girly cheerleader voice. "Give me a P!" I danced to the left. "Give me a O, O!" I twirled to the right. "Give me another P!" I did my version of a toe-touch, which was more of an awkward jump. "What's that spell? Poop!" As I cheered for myself, I lifted my leg in the air.

All of a sudden, my shoe slipped off of my foot, flying straight up into the branches of the tree above me. Oh snap. I whirled around and tilted my head up, spotting my shoe as it slowly but surely tumbled back down. The anticipation was killing me. I crossed my fingers as I silently begged my shoe to eventually return to me. I did not have the time to worry about getting my shoe down before my brother got here, I had other non-existent things to stress over. Besides, I treated my shoes well. Why would they want to get stuck in a tree? My shoes loved me.

Apparently, though, I was sorely mistaken. My jaw dropped as my black and white converse became wedged in between two branches, making no move to fall any further. "Are you kidding me?" I exclaimed up at the tree, tossing my hands in the air before letting them fall back to my thighs. Here I was needing to poop and my shoe had decided to become at one with nature.

I groaned and looked around. If my stupid brother would get there on time like he was supposed to, he could have easily climbed the tree and got it for me. I dropped my backpack and huffed, glaring at my shoe. "I was good to you," I whispered, pointing a menacing finger at it. I felt genuinely upset, it was like it didn't even have a sole.

Aha, get it? Because...never mind.

I walked around the trunk of the tree, trying to find the lowest branch so that I could climb up. I really had no problem with climbing trees; climbing trees was basically my childhood, but I had a feeling that it would be significantly harder with a bunch of turds piling up in my butt.

Once I found a sufficient route, I grabbed a branch and hoisted myself up, slowly climbing. I looked up to see how far I would have to go, seeing that my shoe was only a few more branches away. Psh, this should be easy. Once I was directly under the two branches that my shoe was in, I carefully stood up to grab it. The thin branch wobbled under my weight and I stilled, waiting for it to stabilize. Then I reached up, my fingers barely touching one of the shoelaces.

Suddenly, the sharp beep from a car horn sounded, nearly scaring the poop out of me. With a shriek, I lost my footing and the small branch snapped, sending me plummeting to the ground. After a few seconds, I fell flat on my back.

"Holy—October!" I heard Leo scream, followed by the slam of a car door.

I squeezed my eyes shut in pain as I slowly sat up, my hand immediately holding the back of my head. Whoa, what just happened? The throbbing of my head confirmed that I'd obviously fallen, also confirming that I was a failure and would probably grow up to inevitably disappoint my entire family.

Leo's tall frame immediately shadowed me as he knelt down, worry very obvious in his forest green eyes. "Are you okay?" he boomed in his strangely deep voice that was too deep for a sixteen year old. He took my face in his huge hands and turned my head from side to side, probably examining every pore. "Are you bleeding?" He crawled behind me and parted my hair. "Are you bruised?" He started to lift my shirt, completely violating my privacy bubble.

"Hey!" I shrieked, moving away from him. "I'm fine! This is wrong on so many levels!"

"You just fell out of a bloody tree that's, like..." he paused to quickly examine the large tree, "...twenty feet tall and you say you're fine?" He stared at me and I stared right back, hoping that I could telepathically tell him to chill out and stop being so over-dramatic. It wasn't like I was dying, or dead. I sighed, preparing to get up, but he swooped me up in his arms bridal style. "I'm taking you to the hospital, you could have a concussion," he announced as we made our way to his car.

I dropped my mouth open, but just rolled my eyes as he tucked me under one arm so he could open the passenger door. Then he shoved me inside, making me hit my already throbbing head. "Ow!" I complained.

"Sorry," he grumbled as he started putting my seatbelt on.

"I can strap myself in!" I snapped, snatching the belt from him. He watched as I buckled myself in, me glaring at him the entire time. "Why don't you make yourself useful and get my backpack."

Leo glared at me before turning the opposite way and striding over to the tree to retrieve my backpack. I peered out the window, seeing multiple eyes trained in my direction. Mostly because of the huge scene Leo just caused. I slouched in my seat so that only the tip of my head was visible. Crap. I hoped no one knew who I was. I'd rather have been unnoticed than be popular for something like this.

Leo returned with my backpack and tossed it in the backseat before sliding into the driver's seat. I huffed at him, aggressively poking his shoulder. "Honestly, can you just not do this to me right now?" I practically begged. "I'm literally one hundred percent fine, there's nothing even wrong with me."

Leo snorted as he left the parking lot. "That's what they all say," he chortled.

"Who?"

"The people that end up dead!"

"Leo oh my God," I complained with a loud groan. "We can't just...show up at a hospital for something as stupid as this!"

Leo shot daggers at me before returning to the windshield. "Look ya little nitwit, shut your pie hole, be obedient for once, and enjoy the bloody ride. Gosh, quit your complaining."

I pouted and crossed my arms, officially deciding that he was getting the silent treatment for the rest of my life. And I still had to poop.  

"Where is your shoe?" Leo asked once we'd left campus.

I looked down at my foot and wiggled my toes. My eyebrows rose as I realized that I had completely forgotten about my shoe, which was weird because my shoe was the reason I'd been in the tree in the first place. I looked up again and chewed the inside of my cheek, pulling my eyebrows together. Maybe it's because I hit my head and got temporary amnesia. Which is also weird because I remember literally everything else that happened, I technically even remembered my shoe. So, why was I even having this deep thought process right now?

"Hellooo." Leo waved his hand in my face.

I blinked and stared blankly at him. "Huh? What happened?"

Leo rolled his eyes and sighed. "See, you can't even think straight. You definitely need a hospital."

"Dude, seriously?" If I was taken to the hospital every time I couldn't think straight, I would basically live there.

"Yes, seriously."

I clicked my tongue and took out my phone. "You know what? I'm just going to call mum because you're being a—"

"No!" Leo reached over and karate-chopped the phone out of my hand, it slamming against the window before falling to the floor.

"Hey!" I screamed in sheer panic, fumbling to pick it back up. I had one of the most fragile phones ever—an iPhone—and Leo just went all kung-fu fighting on it. Like, excuse you, sir, this isn't a Nokia. I hesitantly turned it over in my hand, sighing in relief when I saw the screen wasn't cracked. "You can't just throw my phone like that!" I swear it's like you breathe on this thing the wrong way and the screen shatters.

"I didn't throw it!" Leo shrieked back at me, his eyes widening. "There's no need to call mum, you're making this more difficult than it needs to be!"

"I'm making it difficult?" The hospital was coming into view, and I knew it wouldn't be long before both of us would be standing in front of a confused nurse, he or she wondering why these two kids, one of them not even having their shoe, were there.

Leo ignored me, as usual, and it just fueled my anxious fury. Soon we would be pulling into the hospital parking lot, and I've already dealt with enough humiliation today. I acted on impulse, grabbing the steering wheel and yanking it to the left screaming, "You'll never take me alive!"

The tires squealed, actually no. I take that back. It was Leo who squealed as we jerked in the opposite side of the street, bumping over the curb of a sidewalk and hitting the pole of a street light.

***

"In my defense, I told you we didn't really need to go to the hospital," I mumbled as I picked at my nails.

Leo just concentrated on the road as we drove home, rapidly drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. He seemed pretty calm right then, but I knew he was hiding his rage deep inside of him. As always. Honestly, the guy is so angry all the time, he needs to see a therapist.

When we arrived home, Leo immediately went to examine the damage inflicted on his car, and I stood next to him. He had tried to look when I initially crashed it, and knowing how easily his temper sparked, I somehow convinced him to wait until we got home. Otherwise we would've been on the news, broadcasting how I ended up being wrapped around a street light instead of the car. 

I stroked my chin as I observed, tapping my shoe-less foot. Occasionally I'd make a grunting noise or an "Uh huh" as we continued to stare. I mean, it didn't even look that bad, to be honest. There were a few minor dents here and there, a busted headlight, but hey, it was all an easy fix. I looked up at Leo, whose eye was twitching, and I knew he was thoroughly pissed. "Hey, man." I patted his shoulder. "At least we survived."

Leo slowly turned his head towards me, first eyeing my hand that was on his shoulder before basically murdering me eleven times with his eyes. I could practically see the smoke puffing from his nose.

I slowly retracted my hand and backed away, raising my hands. "Hey, it's just a car! Don't kill me, alright?" I requested. He didn't charge at me, so I decided it was safe enough to turn around and march towards the house. On the way to the front door, I tried to come up with a plausible reason as to why my shoe was missing. Perhaps my parents wouldn't notice and I could just take the other one off so they'd think I took both my shoes off and—you get the point.

As soon as I walked in the door, my mum happened to be walking past and she stared at me. Of course, her head immediately tilted down, noticing the absence of my shoe. I quickly looked down at my foot and then back at her with my eyes wide. "Uh, I can explain—"

She hiccuped a little sob and threw her hands in the air. "Mark! I can't take it. Belly's shoe is gone!" She cried as she ran to the kitchen. "Why do bad things always happen to my children?"

I stumbled forward as Leo barged in, him closing the door loudly. "Mum!" he yelled immediately. "Belly crashed my car!"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "She's already crying because of my shoe. Don't make her feel worse," I whisper-yelled as we followed after mum into the kitchen.

We awkwardly watched as she cried into the chest of my father, who was forced to embrace her. Okay, so, my mum was a very emotional person. She'd cry at literally anything. Anything. She cried her eyes out when I'd lost my first tooth and we were both crying when I had to wash the blood out of my mouth. I just hated the sight of blood. It was disgusting. Do you know how hard it is not to think that I'm literally full of the stuff and that it's constantly pulsating through my body?

My dad's eyes flitted over to me and he frowned in confusion as he continued comforting my mum. "Where is your shoe?" He inquired with a sigh, probably not at all surprised. It's not the first time I've come home with something weird. 

After witnessing that one time when I had a raccoon just casually following me around the house, nothing really surprised him anymore. 

My parents actually made a pretty cute couple. They met on Tinder, both of them being in the UK. After basically being madly in love with each other for, like, 6 months, my mum decided to go visit him for a week.

And you know how much can happen in a week. 

After Leo and I popped out of mum's birth canal, the four of us moved to the Americas when we were twelve, and we've lived here ever since. 

"Don't ask how or why, but it's in a tree at school," I answered with a shrug.

My dad just gave me a blank stare, and I knew it was right then that he was questioning why he couldn't just have a normal family.

"Yeah, the same tree you almost killed yourself falling out of," Leo chimed in, shooting me a glare.

Why was he glaring at me, though? It wasn't like I'd done it on purpose, and it wasn't like anyone had asked him to try and take me to the bloody hospital. See, if it weren't for him, his car would have been perfectly fine. But no, he just had to go all overprotective brother/hulk and almost have us killed.

"Oh God, now our children are suicidal!" My mother wailed, trembling in my dad's arms.

"Leodus," my dad reprimanded, which was Leo's full name. I understood why he wanted to be called Leo. "You're not making your mother feel any better," he lectured.

Since the majority of this was my fault, I decided to make amends with my mother and approached her in all her sobbing glory. I tapped her on the shoulder, to which she immediately responded with engulfing me in a bear hug, her wet cheek pressed against mine. "Oh, Belly. I'm so sorry that you fell out of a tree," she whimpered. Then she pulled back and placed her hand on my cheek. She stared at me, her hazel eyes glistening with tears. She was one of those people who could cry and look absolutely beautiful. I wish I could've inherited that trait from her; whenever I cry I just full on ugly cry. The type of crying where your face contorts into some unrecognizable expression and you become a freak of nature. "Are you hurt?" she asked.

That look she was giving me made my lip quiver. My mother cares so much about her family it makes me feel all the feels. "Yes, I'm quite alright, Mum," I squeaked as my eyes watered. Then we went in for another hug, me desperately trying to keep my tears at bay. I will be strong. I will be strong.

"Are you both serious right now?" Leo complained as mum and I clung to each other for dear life. "Dad, Belly crashed my car," he snitched again, trying to get some sort of reaction out of my father who was currently banging his head against the wall.

I think we were starting to stress him out.

After a moment, Dad stopped abusing himself and turned towards Leo, a bright red mark spreading across his forehead. "How did she crash your car, son?" he asked in a tight voice, trying his best to sound like he cared.

"Because she grabbed the steering wheel..." Leo began to explain.

"Let's not forget the part about you trying to take me to the hospital for no reason!" I interjected, my voice muffled from my mom's shirt.

"You could've had a concussion!" Leo exclaimed, throwing out his arms.

"Well, maybe you should have called us before you decided to take such drastic measures," my dad monotonously responded.

"Yeah, well, she could've died before then!" Leo countered, making me wonder where he misplaced his chill.

I was thinking about how much I had to poop when the doorbell rang in the midst of all the commotion. My brother was still having a panic attack, my dad was still trying to reason with him, and my mum was having an emotional breakdown. Since I was apparently the only functioning person at the moment, I had to get the door.

I voiced this to my mother, and she reluctantly let me go, wiping her face. "Okay, please don't hurt yourself," she called after me as I walked out of the kitchen.

I wiped my face and rubbed my hand under my nose before opening the door. "Yes, I have heard about our Lord and savior Jesus Chr—" I stopped abruptly, my tongue suddenly twisting as I widened my eyes.

There was this gorgeous piece of humanity at my doorstep and yes I definitely believed that Jesus was real at this moment.

His hair was dark and full of loose curls that he tucked behind his ears, his blue-green eyes large and adorable. Freckles peppered his nose and dimples were indented in his cheeks as he smiled at me. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke first. "Hey."

Oh my goodness, even his voice was attractive.

Since I failed to speak, he cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. I looked as well and noticed he was holding a shoe. My shoe! "Um, is this yours?" he asked, holding it out to me.

I managed to give him a stiff nod and took the shoe from him, still keeping my eyes locked with his. Who was this guy? How did he know it was my shoe, and how did he know where I lived? And why was he so cute? How old was he? "Thanks," I managed to say instead of asking all of my invasive questions.

"Sure." He put his hands in his pockets and glanced around, an awkward silence falling on us.

As I racked my brain for something to say, my stomach gurgled. I could feel the bubbles travel south until they were right on my butt, and I knew what was coming next.

"Cool! So, uh, I just thought I'd come give it to you since you'd be missing a shoe," the mystery guy continued. "Nobody likes missing shoes, especially those nice ones. Am I right?"

I could see that he was trying to get a conversation going, but I really had to get to the bathroom before I unleash my toxins and contaminate the oxygen within a 3-mile radius. "Yeah!" I squeaked nervously, clenching as hard as I could. "They're...they're my favorite shoes." Also the only shoes that I owned but he didn't need to know that. Before I could quickly end this introduction, my rebellious gases seeped through my tightly sealed buttcheeks in the form of a small wheeze, making me flinch. Luckily, it wasn't like my usual loud and proud ones, but the silent ones are the deadliest.

The mystery guy's smile disappeared after a few seconds, his nostrils flaring. He glanced behind him. "Hey, do you smell that? I think something just died—"

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed loudly, cutting him off. "You're so right! Things are always dying in my front yard. Okay, bye now!" I slammed the door and sprinted away, hustling up the steps towards the bathroom.

It's happening. It's happening.

I threw myself against the bathroom door, nearly breaking it off its hinges and slamming it closed. I flipped the lid of the toilet open and popped a squat, finding my sweet relief, and trying to forget about those large confused eyes.