Dear Boy with a Racket,

I've liked you since sophomore year.
Our paths might have crossed in the halls before that,
but I probably didn't notice you.
One fateful, rainy morning, I paid attention.
Your sneakers squeaked against the shiny gym floors.
I hear your laughter ring amongst the guys surrounding you,
and "Thump, thump, skipabeat, thump"
What was that? I shuddered. Why was it so drafty in the room?
Or was it just my imagination...?

You flashed a grin at me.
Temptation to lie washed over me.
"Yeah, I have legacies from prestigious BeiDa"
First time you talked to me.
My hands felt clammy and I fumbled the edges of my physical education shirt.

"Hey... your voice sounds deeper than I thought."
"Uhh.. yeah."
He probably thinks I'm weird now, I knew, but I kept at it anyways.
I suprised myself that the receiver hadn't slipped from my hands.


Our keyboards giggled at each other,
but the faces behind those computer screens were unreadable.
It was exciting to know you better, though the means could have been better.
But I liked you so much by that time I just didn't care.


No more.
No more virtual chats. No more talk.
In the hallways of school, at formal events...
Stare contests would ensue, one-sided.
I'd pretend that nothing was wrong.
You'd pretend we were still strangers.


You stepped through the doors of my classroom,
A familiar rush of pink swept across my cheeks and I think back to 2 years ago.
If only I spoke up more, if only I was funnier, if only...
I wonder if we still have a chance.
I wonder if I even
have those feelings
for you

 ♥