Listening to: Gotta Get Thru This - Daniel Bedingfield
Feeling: superior
"Can I come see you tomorrow?" I asked, my heart tightening as my fingers did on the ragged edges of my math book.
"I'd rather come see you," He said with a shy smile, and I blushed and looked at my hands. He walked me to class, and I was so aware of how it was to have him walking by me, his voice to my right.
What is this? I like it...But I don't want to share with anyone, not even my own mother or my best friend, this is something for me and him to put away in a little gilt box and smile over someday when we're too old to care about silly this or that or you and me and what really is wrong or right in this world?
I don't want to talk about it...
That's great-- I'm right there. No, behind the potted plant.