"I Could Throw This At You But Then I Would Have To Kill You!"
Here is "blast from my teenage past" kind of story. I was a bit awkward as a teenager (aren't we all? Right?). I had all the requisite physical parts to be cute (long blonde hair, tall, curvy) but I was insanely clumsy and super shy.
The summer that Happy Bunny and I turned 17 we took her red minivan (and Brenna) to the town near my cottage so we could suntan on the beach there and look at the cute town boys. We spent ridiculous amounts of time on hair and outfits and were sauntering down the boardwalk when a guy playing volleyball nearby threw a ball in my path in a really obviously-accidental-on-purpose way.
I had my immediate normal reaction to male attention. I turned beet red and every thought in my head flew away in a flutter of teenage hormones.
I vaguely remember that I knew I needed to not just leave the ball lying at my feet, so I picked it up but then I froze. I was terrible at team sports. REALLY TERRIBLE.
Internal monologue: Oh my god. He's cute. If I throw this at him, I am going to look like a fool. It's either going to soar right over his head or land right back at my feet. What should I do? I can't just stand here. I look stupid! I look stupid! I look stupid! I look stupid! Throw it. No. Don't. What if you hit him in the face? Or worse? What if it hits him in the neck AND KILLS HIM?? He's still looking at you. Say something.
Me: If I throw this at you, I will have to kill you!
Internal monologue: Fuck.
Me (weakly): Ha....ha....
I turned to Katie and Brenna and they were both just kind of staring at me in horror. I got the nerve up to look at the guy and he just looked confused. In discussions on this subject today with Brenna, she recalls that she snorted at this point, which I cannot dispute.
And then we walked away in silence only broken by Katie venturing "Did you MEAN to threaten to kill him?" And my answering "Oh. My. God. Kill me."