Why I should quit playing games with your heart (haha)

We sat on the couch in the apartment that belonged to people we didn't know. Our elbows grazing frequently in that "I want to grope you but can't since we're in the company of others".  We stole looks at eachother as if we were being followed by the mafia or the fbi and didn't want them to find out that we knew each other. I nervously picked at the vinyl couch covering that the owner's cat had already managed to annihilate.
 
Neither of us wanted to be there. Both of us had our own ideas of better fun. It was obviously much more logical to sit on the couch in the apartment that belonged to people we didn't know and watch them play video game golf. I pretend flirted with the boy at the controls, asking him questions about golf that made it sound like I knew what I was talking about. I knew it made him mad (him, not the boy).
 
We left the apartment and started walking towards the car. I turned around, leaning against the cold surface of the steely blue car with my arms crossed. He mimicked my stance. I looked at him smirking, letting out a hint of laughter. He cocked his head to the side and playfully asked "what?" I coyly replied "nothing. nothing at all".  A moment passed, we both spent it with our heads turned down intensely studying the pavement. "I know that things were said" he muttered. "You remember that?" I questioned. 
 
I'm pretty sure the words "Lindsay, you're a dumbass" ran through my head more than once in that millisecond. The first time for getting drunk enough to actually express my feelings and the second time for not jumping him and ripping his clothes off right there in the parking lot.  And now he's gone, probably forever. If I'm lucky I might just get to keep the boy who thinks I know a lot about golf. Just thought you should know.