I was wrong.

About him not noticing the little things, that is.
He asked about my tiny gold Star of David necklace.
He giggled when I laughed at one of his jokes and promptly pointed out all of my dimples, including the three by my eye.
He noticed that I've only worn my Braves jacket once or twice, preferring my Bulls one over it ("Oh, I get it! New year, new jacket." )
He knows I couldn't care less about sports.
He asked why I had a pink book bag, knowing it wasn't my favorite color.

…just to name a few instances.

I think that whole "distance makes the heart grow fonder" thing has a sort of vague power over him. I caught him staring at me several times since the end of winter break. But he just smiles, calm, cool, and collected as always. To be honest, I'm a little jealous of his lack of frustration. Why do I have to be the flustered one? (Could this be a warning sign?) One of my goals this year is to understand/sort/control my emotions. One passenger at a time, please folks. Thank you kindly.

We have a Little Kid type of appreciation, I think. Everything is subtle, but we're both giddy and giggly on the inside. He's such a cutie. Seeing him after only...what? A week? I was pleasantly surprised to find that my imagination had hardly done him justice.

It's really cute how badly he wants to catch me off guard. I can tell he's not used to people knowing what's going to come out of his mouth, if only on occasion. He's trying so hard to surprise me. Maybe I'll let him. Or maybe I'll make him work for it.

It has occurred to me that all of this is just my hyperactive, starving imagination teaming up with my hormones to mess with me. Even if it is, at least I'm (sort of) enjoying it. The looks, the smiles, the unspoken words, maybe I'm just a silly thirteen-year-old girl.

But this silly girl can dream, can't she?