I was so wrong.

Remember how I said that nothing more would probably ever come of Neighbor Boy and I? I was wrong. I was so so wrong.

Here's the scene:
We're at his apartment (2.5 feet away from my apartment) and everyone is smashed. People are making out left and right, Zumi Zumi is going on consistently in the kitchen (drinking game), all the "cool" kids have congregated outside to smoke. Neighbor boy needs to go help people find his apartment and thinks it's totally cool to drive his motorcycle. Myself, being the awesome hero of the night decides to duke it out with him and not let him ride his bike. I won, of course, and I walked with him to pick up his friends.

On the walk:
We start hashing it out about "what happened" how he interpreted the fact that I told him that I was scared of getting into another shitty relationship, and wanted to take it slow, as this chick doesn't know what she wants, run for the hills. Apparently, on the date he took me on as well- he said- I looked like shit- as if I had just came from the Gym. My clothes were too average, and my hair looked like crap...sound like an asshole? Perfect! Apparently thats my type.

CUT TO THE APARTMENT.

Roomie B drunkenly states he wants Taco Bell. Myself, thinking that Taco Bell is an awesome idea, volunteers to drive. Then gets her keys taken away and gets into a screaming fight with Neighbor Boy and Roomie B.

I decide to go to bed, put my PJs on and Neighbor Boy texts me. Next thing I know I've invited him over and we drunkenly make out.

Hate to say it (no, I really don't hate to say it) but it's ending here- fucker said I looked like shit on our date- he literally only gave me 5 minutes to get ready.

The end.