I stared at the paper in front of me, knowing if I looked up I’d look at him. As creepy as it sounds, if I could stare at a person all day it would be him. His dark skin complements his ocean-like eyes. If I stare at them too long I’m afraid I’ll drown in them. Luckily that’s not an issue because the longest we’ve made eye contact is about a second. His eyes were kind though every time he caught me staring he would just smile. It didn’t help he sat right in front of me.

The equations danced on the page and I didn’t want to solve them. Reluctantly I tried to solve the equation.

“I hate algebra.”

The rush came over me again. That rush of adrenaline, or dopamine. I looked up and saw him sitting in front of me.

“I hate algebra. It’s just a bunch of numbers on a page that somehow always get us an answer that’s either correct or wrong.”

I bit my lip trying my best not to laugh at his rant. I looked up and he smiled again. That bright, pearly white smile of his. Maybe this is what falling in love feels like.

The teacher explained the equations to the class. At the end she explained the project, a two person project that would be worth half our grade. I groaned to myself and so did the beautiful boy across from me. The bell was about to ring so I packed up, again trying to avoid eye contact. Suddenly though, there was a phone in my face.

“What’s this?” I asked looking up at him.

“Your phone number…”

My heart started racing, that rush came over me again. He’d ask me to hangout, maybe. I got lost in the ocean again.

“Are you going to put your number in or am I going to wait here all day?”

“Why though?”

“The project of course,” he said and my smile disappeared. “What do you not want to be my partner? I thought we were friends?”

He laughed jokingly and I forced my my smile, I typed in my name and number before handing it to him and saying goodbye. The bell rang and I ran to the bathroom, locking the stall. I could stay in here, cry all day, until security are forced to pry me out of the stall and take me home. But I can’t. Because that’s what weak people do.

Maybe that’s what love does to you. When love is taken from you, you break. You are now weak. But you can’t be weak so you pretend you aren’t which hurts more. Being weak is okay, but I can’t let them see it. I walked out of the bathroom, head high.

My phone dinged, ‘Hi lovely’. The flirting was cute, when I didn’t know I was just his friend.

My heard broke into a million pieces as I texted back…