I’m leaning on your desk, half twisted in my chair, just to see your face. The class is working on a map of the world, labeling places, countries, and continents. And I’m intoxicated with everything about you, scarcely able to keep form turning around when I’m taking a test or taking notes. I think I miss half the things our teacher says, but I’m still pulling an A+ average, compared to your B or C. Hopefully B+.

You write “North” on one of the continents and ask me to spell “America.”

“Really?” I reply. But I begin to spell anyways, watching your hand as it writes each letter at the pace of my voice.

“A-” You’ve got to be kidding me.

“-M-” How could you not know to spell this? Are you more stupid than I know?

“-E-” Please tell me you know how to spell this.

“-R-” I desperately want to grab your hand, but I couldn’t face seeing you jump.

“-I-” Your writing is so sloppy. Can’t you write neater?

“-A” I laugh at the last letter

“Is that it?” My inquiry is answered when you write “South” and look up with your head tilted slightly, questioning.

“Keep going,” you say, looking down, taking your orange-y green and blue eyes away from me. You still haven’t answered me about why they’re like that.

“A-” Couldn’t you just look at the top of the paper? It’s really not that hard to do.

“-M-” I smile. I really want to toss in some cute little quip about spelling.

“-E-” Why can’t I think of anything cute to say?

“-R-” I sigh. You look up briefly showing me again those wonderfully peculiar eyes.

“-A” Wow, this is taking a long time. I really need to work on my map.

I glance backwards at my own desk for a second. I see that the other girl crushing on you has moved to the seat next to me. She’s already told all of her friends that she likes you. But I know you don’t like her back, and she’s too scared to do anything about it other than talk to you. Problem is, she’s a heck of a lot closer friend to you than I am at this point. I’m working on it and you seem to be helping the process along too.

I turn back around to glance at you again, and see your pen waiting patiently on another continent.
“E-” I begin. I see the girl out of the corner of my eye sitting calmly picking out colored pencils.
“-U-” I turn and grimace into her back, almost growling in an extremely territorial way.
“-R-” One day, I really want to glance haughtily at her with him by my side.
“-O-” That would be the sweetest revenge of all. I would laugh at her face.
“-P-” I really hope he likes me back, but I doubt it.
“-E” I’m just being silly, he’ll never like me.
Once, because I’m fairly good friends with his ex-girlfriend, we were talking about the completely pathetic attempts of the other girl. The ex- commented on the other girl wanting her leftovers. I laughed in the moment, and we walked into history together giggling. That conversation still haunts me.
You point to the next continent. I start to spell again.
“A-” This is getting ridiculous
“-F-” I wait for too long, and you tap your paper waiting for me to say the next letter.
“-R-” Why don’t you look up at me? Look up!
“-I-” I’ll take anything, a glance, a grin, anything!
“-C-” You have to know how to spell this! Why are you doing this to me?
“-A” Do you just want to hear my voice?
I remember you teasing me the day I was really sick, so I snapped and burst out, telling you to “Shut up!” The look on your face, the hurt, the confusion, made me wonder if you really do like me. Is that even possible? A person like you couldn’t possibly like a person like me.
You gesture at the last continent. I stare at you in disbelief. This is the most impossibly easy continent to spell. I’m wasting my time with you, but I’ll spell anyways.
“A-” Please, you have to know how to spell this!
“-S-” Are you having me spell this for attention?
“-I-” Do you like me?
“-A-” Say the answer’s yes. I don’t think I could deal with anything less.

About five minutes later, you poke me in the back and I flinch. You see me cringe, but miss the goose bumps. I cast my eyes back at you, twisting around.

“I do know how to spell those words, you know,” you say with a slightly evil grin. I smile back at you, but in my head, I’m thanking everyone I can think of. So does this mean you like me? Trying to get my attention? Just like I’m trying to get yours?

The next day, in the library for class, you choose to sit next to me, and keep your elbow pressed up against mine for most of the class. I think the answer’s yes. Gosh, I hope so.