One Friday, when the wheather has turned cold and we huddle in dark sweaters and thick lace-up boots,he sits next to me.

"The next lab," he says, "the one with the cell model, we have to do it in partners." I'm lost in his voice.

"Teacher paried us together yesterday,when you were absent."

oh god ,oh yes.

"oh, alright," My heart pounds. His lips are such a lovely shade of pink.

"so should I come over to work on it?"he asks. His eyes are a deep brown. From a distance they seemed black, but up close I can see every line and hue in his irises.

"Today?"My voice caught in my throat,a toneless wishper.

He shifts in his chair. "Is that alright I mean, he is not giving us alot of time to work on it in class,so-"

"Right, no, it makes sense. I, yeah,sure." I rub my neck and look at the lab sheet. "I'll have to check with my parents first,but I'm sure they'll be okay with it," I glance up at him and smile slightly,then wince away.

"Great." He says."I mean I have to check with my parents too,but it should be fine." He laughs a little breathlessly and my stomach drops. He clears his throat."so ,do you ride the bus home?"

"Right,yeah. Bus 48. It's usually the last one to arrive".

He smiles. "That's alright, mine's usually pretty late too.what part of town do you live in?"

"It's sort of near the mall.Like,do you know where Triphammer is?"

we keep talking for a bit, awkward smiles and quick glances, and somehow it's nice. I agree to meet his after school by his locker.

The first period quickly wears off and gives way to anxiety by second. God, what was I doing? What if my room smelled bad? No, I'd vacuumed yesterday,it should be fine. But what if it wasn't? Should I light a candle?No that would be weird. I frowned. That would be really weird.

I stare at my math Homework in horror. What if he gets weirded out and leaves? Then what do I do? I walk to English in daze.

My stomach twists itself into coils too tight to force food into. I do my English homework and worry about whether he'd like my room or not. What will we talk about? What if I say something that offends him? I don't think I could handle the Shame.

Now that I've had a taste of what it is like to really talk to him,to be friends even in the most general sense,I can't imagine going back to how it had been before. I want to see him smile, and know it was because of me. I want to hear him laugh,and know it was from some thing I said. I see him again for a moment before seventh period.

He's walking with a few of his friends, and catches my eye. I'm walking alone. I smile at him slightly,not sure if he'll acknowledge me or not. We hadn't spoken at all before this,and I know that, but I can't help but hope.

That's all I ever do ,hope and wish and dream.

He smiles back, crinkling his eyes, and raises his sleeve covered hand. The coils in my stomach loosen,and I wave back.

He's still smiling, until he's jostled by one of his friends,who glances at me. We have English together, but there isn't any recognition in his face. Part of me aches.

Finally,it's eighth period. I Skipped the last fifteen minutes of studio Art to stare hopelessly into the mirror and apply some hasty deodorant. I'm already ba hormonal teenage boy who's freaking out over whether or not he might get hard infront of the boy he loves.

The coils clench around my lungs, and I squirt some soap into my plams. I start washing my hands, glaring at the water as it flows into the rushed drain.

Do I really love him? I always describe our relationship in my head as love

from me to him with nothing in return

but how can it be that?

Simply and honestly I don't know him. I don't know how many siblings he has, what he does to feel happy,why he changed in a bathroom stall during the swimming unit in gym.I don't even know his favourite colour.

Blue, I suddenly remember. There was a get to know each other activity on the first day, and he said his favourite colour was blue. It's oddly comfortable to know.

The bell rings. I clear my throat, scrap the water off my hands with a paper towel,run my fingers through hair a final time,and walk out of bathroom. I put in my earbuds and push my way through the hallway to his locker,on the other side of the school.

It may not be love, what I feel for James, but it's something. It's something strong and very much there, and I'm going to hold onto it with my life.

Autors note : Hey Guys hope u like it...

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