Something wasn't right. It was like every time I looked in the mirror I didn't know who I was. I didn't love myself. I wanted someone to love me for me. The tears on my face didn't make me look any prettier than I already wasn't. So I thought. I didn't know why I was crying. It just came out of me like a waterfall. It felt so good though. I can't tell anyone. I won't tell anyone. Even him. He doesn't even think about me like way. I barely know him but I feel something. It's not even like a teenage feeling. Yet, something is terribly wrong. I can't explain why I feel this way. I can't even look at him. Can't even tell him more than two words exactly. I don't like this feeling. It was so much easier when he wasn't around. He just had to move to California. Why not New York? Or Georgia? Or anywhere? He just had to come here to my exact school and make me feel a type of way that I can't explain! The worst thing is that he's nice. He says hi to everyone, treats everyone the same way and doesn't care how he makes me feel about that! I can't take that. My tears can't tell me why. There isn't an equation and scientific law that states why this is happening. He sits in my class, we have the same questions, the same teachers and yet I feel like we are so different.

I stepped out of the bathroom and with my glasses pushed up and brown wavy hair put back in a ponytail. Head down with m books guarding my heart. Maneuvering through the hallways is my specialty, avoiding everyone like their c***roaches. It's mutual though, they avoid me, thinking I'm a piece of trash on the side walk. I try not to fight to urge to lift my head up because I hear his voice. I mentally high five myself because I didn't let unbalance of heat beating affect my face expressions. My legs began to walk slower for some apparent reason and can't decide what they want to do. My arms don't want to get into this so I just stand there. I overhear what they say but in bits in pieces. By that time the bell had already rung, and I was late to my physics class. The class I had with him.

I never was this way before he moved here. I was quiet yes, but content. I loved being alone. I didn't have to worry about the simple things. Read and study. Never think, just do. Now I think 24/7 about him and only him. Parents ask how my day was. "Good." I can't tell them how I really feel. They don't get it. They don't get how I feel. Tenth grade and they still don't know how I am. Frail not strong. Smart but narrow-minded. I don't know how to fend for myself. I never really had friends. And when people tried to be my friends I didn't know how to relate. I'm not sad. Not happy either and certainly not mad. Just content. Kind of like a robot I guess. I don't express anything that I don't have to. I guess that just didn't click with me.

I'm well aware that I'm late to my favorite class, who I share with...him. He sits directly behind me which is beyond frustrating knowing I cannot control my eyeballs to flip to the other side of my head. I sit down and don't even wonder why the teacher hasn't called me out. Probably because I'm so called the teacher’s pet. I smirk mentally but cringe and the thought of me doing it outside of my skin. The whole hour is taken by doing independent work. It wasn't quiet but it’s certainly not loud either. People can ask questions and talk to their friends while their done. I understand the task absolutely well and don't have to ask for help. Yet another part of me wishes that I didn't get it and that I could ask--him. He's quite like me but I don't dare make the mistake to catch those hazel eyes. Many people I assume think their brown, but up close they have just the hint of green. Nothing compares... I get the question six when I felt the slightest touch on the shoulder that's my how body feel electrocuted. I knew who it was and had to do something.

Do I stand up? Obviously I have to turn around. He says something but I don't comprehend. I look up and turn my whole body the appropriate amount of speed that doesn't make him react some type of way. My blues eyes has no match for his. He looks at me with no expression and I feel like I want to die. He smiles which makes me want to crawl out of my skin because I don't know why he would possibly do that. He scoops the paper in his hand and says three words to me.
"I need help." So simple, so effortless.
"Y-Yes." I respond like a duck.
Smiles again and I don't know why. I'm pretty sure I don't have an expression on my face. Then he says four words that mark my future. The way I will live life forever because it wasn't just him. It was me, realizing so much more to life than I can ever imagine.
"Can you help me?"