I watched the way he walked in front of me. I laughed at him when my best friend and I would make fun of him, and he couldn’t hear us. I listened to how his tone changed when talking to me, and then talking to anyone else; for me, it was softer and kinder. I saw the way he looked into my eyes every time he spoke, however, didn’t lock them there; his eyes glanced off to the sides. I noticed his body language, and the way he was incredibly close to me whenever we spoke, which was a chance he jumped on. I felt bullets go into my chest when his friends were around, and being a typical guy, made fun of me. I forgave him when he said he didn’t mean it once they left. I felt his hand skim mine when he put money in my hand after losing a bet. I stared when he looked at me, as it became a contest. I couldn’t move when his mouth opened. I knew he was lonely and insecure and needed me as much as he needed me, but didn’t know how to get me. I put this all together in a big math equation called me (like you) + you (like me). I don’t know the answer.