I walk down the hallway clutching my books to my chest, hoping he would be at his locker.

You see, my locker is right next to my crushes, and for the life of me I can't speak to him. My friends say he's out of my league and try someone who isn't as popular who will never notice me. But every now and again I'll ask about a quiz or homework, and once I swear he winked at me. I used to be able to talk to boys, I used to be good at flirting, but then I don't know what happened but I hate talking to guys. My face will get red and my voice will get obnoxiously loud or annoyed.

I don't even know the difference between flirting and regular talking. It's sad.

But today is different. Today I feel like bursting. Because last night was the party. The party where I flirted my a*s off, got a few hugs, got drunk made out with a few people and ultimately, I hooked up with my crush. Sure we were both drunk and there were absolutely no feelings involved, but maybe now there can be feelings or an actual relationship...If he even remembers last night. He was totally hammered. I woke up on a couch, with him sleeping next to me. I got up to realize that the ground was littered with other hooked up, passed out couples, or not couples.

I shuffle behing a group of seniors and practically skip to my locker. My mind blanks as I see him ther. I honestly didn't expect him to be there. Oh god, I feel my face flush red and my body go into awkward mode. I sidle to my locker now hoping he doesn't acknowlede me but he does. He turns toward me with a resting b**** face.

"Hi."

"Hey," I squeak out, my gawky voice echoing in my locker. I flinch.

"So..."

"Yeah," Not quite the conversation I had imagined.

His locker slams and my eyes unconciously, forcefully blink. 

"See you in chem," I whisper to myself, I slam my locker and bang my hot head against it's cool surface,"S***."

The rest of the day trudges on, I groan as each class passes, nearing AP Chem. And then I slide through the door to see him sitting at my table next to my seat. He grins at me, I flash my teeth in what feels like a grimace, but looks like a smile. God save me. I sit down next to him, and wait for him to speak. He sat next to me afterall.

He turns and I hold my breath, a mischievious dimple appearing on his cheek,"So, last night was....fun."

I blush and look at my hands,"Yeah,"I laugh nervously, "So what now?"

"Well,"He studies the ceiling. The next words stab my mind like a knife, unless it's the hangover, "Forget it."

"What?"

He looks at me again blankly, "Forget it. Tell no one and don't bring it up."

"I-I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"I have a girlfriend," he mutters, "Now stop talking to me."

He walks away nonchalant and I sit here, a thousand words boiling in my overflowing mind. But I sit there, through last period, not looking over, not speaking once. When class dismisses I'm still sitting there, silent, stunned and I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder. I turn hoping it's him, but it's only the teacher so I turn back.

"The bell's rung. Time to go home now. Are you okay?"

And I mutter the sentence I will be thinking about through highschool, college and past that even.

"How do I forget?"