The bell rings:
time to rush to mynext class.
I walk through a hallway
with yellow and bluelockers,
loud with many voices.
I push my way through thehallway,
past crowds of people walking aimlessly.
I see a familiarface,
his blond hair,
his bright yellow tee-shirt,
his brightwhite sneakers;
we make eye contact.

Do I say hi?
Do Inod?
Do I ignore him?
We pass.
I wave and smile.
A rush ofexcitement runs through my body.
He stares right at me:
noreaction.
It is like he had never seen me before in his life.
Thesmile across my face simply fades,
The glow of happiness in mycheeks
turns red with embarrassment.

I arrive at mylocker.
15-25-15?
15-15-25?
25-15-15?
My combination escapesme.
As I struggle with my locker, as
I yank on the lock manytimes,
as I get more and more frustrated,
the same familiar facewalks by.
This time I pretend not to see him.
I continue to jumblemy combination.

Suddenly,
a tap on the shoulder,
I amstartled as I turn to see
the same blond hair and brightshirt,
smiling at me.
I return the smile.
I continue with mylocker, and
it opens finally,
and the bell rings for the nextclass to begin.

I dash into math,
and the teacher is writing alesson on the green board.
I sit in my seat,
a large smile painted