It was like he loved to torture her. She played every moment over and over in her head, a broken record reaching no conclusion. "You've got the cutest smile I've seen all day Liz." He paused seeming to remember something then counted up on his fingers, "1...2...Oh, wait...no, the third cutest." He had revised. But it was the way he said it. He carried such a smile like life held some great joke that only he understood, ...And those blue eyes, Ugh and his brown hair. It was never more than finger combed but always perfect, at least to her. Did he know that she analyzed his every word. "Had a dream about you,
you like went off to join the circus as a clown and Todd and I had to tell your parents and then your parents said we should all join and they started practicing knife juggling in the house it was crazy."
"You dreamed that I was a clown??"
"Yeah, That wasn't even the weird of it Todd was going to join as a rapper -like that makes sense- and your baby sister was dropping him a beat." She loved his every thought, she loved the way he spoke his mind so easily when she was so afraid to.
She loved every moment of his attention from the stupid stories he told as they walked the halls to the passing glances that she always waited for... posed for. Was it crazy that she elaborately pretended to be focused on the teacher and slowly straightened up at her desk while only wondering if he'd like her more if she seemed smart or had better posture?
Sometimes she was so certain. He so likes me, why else would he talk to me so much? He doesn't tease anyone else in class this much, he definitely likes me, right? In a surge of confidence she'd try to tease back, or maybe even show affection. But every time she'd falter and doubt would overwhelm her. But he has to know I like him, I'm giving all the signs! All my friends already know, if he knows why hasn't he done anything. He never makes a move, it's so casual for him... Here I am thinking about him all the time but he doesn't give me a second thought. No way....
The second guessing, it drove her mad. Why couldn't he make it clear? Why was she so uncertain? Why did he have to play games, I like you, just kidding, no really though, fooled you twice, but in all seriousness... on and on, round and round. She couldn't take it any longer. Each time was the last time. Okay today, I'll... I'll just ask him on a date, today. But the moment was never right... she was never quite ready and at the end of each day she was left to count the hours until she had another chance.
Day by day she went in circles, trying but failing, hoping but fearing. What cruel god had sentenced her to freshman year in the prison of the crush? Would she ever muster the courage to break out? Or would she serve her time like all the rest?