Are you crazy? The Statue of Liberty? Yuck! I don’t— I’d never— no. I don’t have a crush on the Statue of Liberty. Gross.
It’s not even like that. We’re just friends. Boys and girls can be friends, you know. Not everyone wants to kiss each other. Boys and girls can be friends. Girls and statues can be friends. Girls and statues can hold hands, if they want. Or kiss. With tongue. It’s not a big deal. God, you’re being so close-minded.
I mean, you were there. Wasn’t it like, super casual? It wasn’t a date or anything. Just two friends, hanging out, chatting on a class field trip to New York. Honestly, I’m pretty sure Owen R. took more pictures of her than I did. Not that Owen R. would ever have a chance. She’s way out of his league.
Seriously, why would you even ask me that? Did you hear something? Did she say something about me? Not that I care, because I don’t. But if she said something about me, you should probably tell me, because honesty is important.
Oh. Ok. But if you do hear anything, you’ll tell me, right? I don’t care. I just want to know what she thinks about me. Like if she thinks I’m cute, or if she’s impressed by my French skills. Bonjour! She’s from Paris, you know.
Whatever. It doesn’t even matter. She’s like, way too old for me. Yeah, sure, in a few years, when we’re both adults, it won’t be that big of a deal. I’m not done growing yet, so there probably won’t be a height difference. I’ll graduate from college, move to the city to pursue a career in architecture. She’ll still be in the city, because she’s 300 feet tall and made of metal and also like, really securely fastened. Like, completely bolted down. Super hard to move. Not that I’ve tried. Anyway. Maybe we’ll randomly bump into each other one day at a coffee shop. Maybe the coffee shop on Liberty Island? I don’t know. We’ll chat, exchange numbers. Go for walks on the beach. Well, I’d walk on the beach. She’d just watch me from afar. And before we know it, we’ve fallen in love. And we build a beautiful life together. Adopt a dog. Share a milkshake with two straws. I hire a crew of 100 men to help me move her to the suburbs, so we can raise our half-copper kids in a safe neighborhood, away from all the noise of the city. We’re happy. We die together, holding hands.
What? Oh my god, can you give it a rest? I already told you, I don’t like her! I like her, but I don’t like-like her! Maybe you like the Statue of Liberty, huh? Maybe you think she’s smart and funny and pretty and strong enough to lift you over her head like they do in Dirty Dancing. Maybe YOU want to ask her to the Spring Fling Semi-Formal! Ha! Explain that!
You shouldn’t, though. Ask her to the Spring Fling Semi-Formal, I mean. Because I heard someone else already wants to ask her. Who? Oh, uh, Owen R. Yeah. He’s totally into her. Don’t tell anyone though. You know how the rumor mill can be.