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laughed to himself then. “I’m sorry. That was very
forward of me. You don’t even know me yet, and I—”
    “ Um,
David?” I stopped him. Oh, my God. What do I say? I’m alone here at
this school. No one knows me, there’s no best friend on the other
end of the line to give me boy advice, and no one to tell me I’m
crazy to think a guy like this could really be saying that. I
hugged my arms across my waist. “This is all a little bit weird for
me.”
    “ I’m
sorry.” David scratched his upper lip with his thumb and cleared
his throat. “I get it.”
    “ No,
you don’t get it—” I chased after him as he turned away.
    “ No.
Really.” His smile radiated sincerity. “I really do. You don’t have
to explain.”
    “ But—”
    “ Come on, we’re late.” He took a step away, then turned back
to face me, pointing his thumb toward the stairs. “It’s uh—it’s
this way.”
    Oh,
for God’s sake, what is wrong with me? I wish I could scream it
out—tell him exactly what I’m thinking. But I just don’t want to
seem creepy or desperate. And then there’s the fear that this might
be a nasty joke—that if I confess my feelings for this boy I don’t
know, everyone might jump out from behind the lockers and start
laughing at me.
    “ Sorry, did you just say something?” David stopped walking and
turned back to face me.
    “ I
uh—no.” I hope not. Was I thinking out loud?
    The
door beside me burst open and an evil-villain-type-scary woman, who
probably kidnaps Dalmatians, popped her angry face out. “You two
all right there?”
    “ Yes, Miss Hawkins, we were just going,” David said
slowly.
    “ Well, make it quick, please, the
bell has gone.”
She slammed the door, leaving David and I alone
again.
    A
silent discomfort separated us with an invisible line.
    “ Lunch?” David said, shattering the glass-like
tension.
    “ Lunch?”
    “ Yeah. Can I…” he shuffled his feet and then looked back up,
“can I walk you to lunch after class?”
    I
smiled, a simple smile. “Sure, why not.”
     
    I’m
a coward. I’m a first class, moronically deranged coward. I dropped
my face into my hands, resting my elbows against the desk. How
could I just stand there with my giant gob open and let nothing
out? I should’ve told him. I should’ve said, “Thanks, David. I like
you, too.” What is wrong with me?
    “ Everything all right, Ara?” Miss Swanson asked.
    Oh,
right, paying attention in class is usually a good idea. “Um, sure,
all fine.” I forced a fake smile. Satisfied, the teacher turned
back to the board and, one by one, the students followed
suit.
    Hiding under the illusion of privacy that secluding myself up
the back of the room created, I grabbed my notepad and scribbled
little circles for a while, then turned them into snakes and other
various works of notepad art.
    Poor
David. He said he likes me and I said nothing. He must be so
humiliated. He must think I blew him off, and I guess, in a way, I
did. I’m just not ready to risk the horrible feeling of rejection
when he wakes up tomorrow and slaps himself as soon as he realises
he only liked me today because I’m new.
    But
what if he was serious? What if he really does like me—like, truly
like me. That makes me a nasty cow for pulling the ‘this is all too
much for me’ card. Who am I kidding? I looked down at the picture
of a rose on my page and brushed the pen-tip over the falling
petals. I’m too messed up to have friendships. I’ve known David for
less than a day and already I’m making a fool out of myself, and
worse—hurting him. Perhaps it’s better if he thinks I don’t like him. Perhaps
it’s better if everyone thinks I don’t like them.
    When
the lunch bell rang, I stayed in my chair. What am I going to tell
David when I see him? Gee, sorry I didn’t tell you before, David,
but I actually think I fell in love with you at first sight. Or, I
know myself well enough to know that there’s no way you’ll escape
my