Outside of You

With shaky hands, I tap my pencil lightly on my desk, three rows away from you. The teacher’s not in the room yet, and you’re talking to him. Your boyfriend. He’s got his hand on your knee and talking about something that you’re clearly not interested in. I can tell, because you’re not smiling like you usually do – when your eyes light up and your nose scrunches up slightly. He’s probably talking about his stupid baseball team, or something else equally uninteresting. Doesn’t he know that you hate sports? One would assume that he would, considering that you’ve been together for over a year now.

I wonder if you remember ever sharing a text book with me that one time in math class. It was two years ago. I thought for sure that after that, you’d notice me. But you just completed the work as quietly as possible and went right back to acting like I’m completely invisible. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting something more. But I was stupid – you deserve better than me. That’s why you’re with John. You probably love him.

What would happen if I ever really introduced myself to you? I wonder what your first impression of me would me. I would hope it would be good – I would only want you to ever think the best of me. That’s how I think of you, anyway. To me, you’re perfect. You would probably shake your head and laugh and tell me that you’re not, but you really are. I hope John tells you that you are. You deserve to hear it.

At lunch, you sit with John and his friends from the baseball team. He usually has his hands on you somehow – whether it’s his arm on your shoulder or around your waist. He’s always touching you. As if he’s afraid you’re going to run away from him. I don’t blame him in the slightest. If I had you, I’d be afraid you’d leave me too.

Jack tells me I’m crazy. He says that I need to move on and find someone who actually knows that I exist. But Jack doesn’t understand. If he even felt towards someone a fraction of what I feel towards you, then maybe he would. But until he does, he’ll just keep telling me things I won’t listen to.

When our teacher finally comes into the room, John is quick to sit straight in his own seat and stop talking, leaving you alone. I watch you relax and slump down in your seat.

Later, when the bell rings, signaling the end of our class, I watch John jump from his seat and gather his books. He leans down and kisses you soft and slow and I can’t bring myself to stop watching. He loves you. That much is obvious, as painful as it is to admit it. He pulls away then, smiling as he tells you that he’ll see you at lunch. He follows his friends out of the classroom, leaving you alone.

It’s eighth period, in Algebra - a class that we share together - that I notice how tired you seem. You slouch in your seat, ignoring the boy Rian who you talk to every day. You don’t seem happy, and I really hope you’re not overworking yourself. You’re one of the top students in this school and I’m sure that’s stressful for you. Maybe…maybe I should talk to you today. Maybe I could just try and make you smile. Even if it’s only for a second. I just hope I don’t make a fool of myself.

My heartbeat picks up when the bell rings, as I grab my own books and try and shove them into my bag as quickly as I can. I want to talk to you before you leave the room and I lose my chance. You’re moving pretty slowly, though, taking your time getting your stuff packed up. I slip the strap of my backpack over my shoulder and adjust my shirt, hoping that I don’t look too awful today. I want you to think I look nice.

You say goodbye to Rian as he gets up from his own seat and waves at you. He tells you he’ll see you tomorrow and you fake a smile as he goes. You have a nice smile even when you don’t really mean it, I notice.

As you stand up from your desk, that’s when I start walking towards you. My hands are sweaty and my heart is pounding, and I’m not even really sure what I’m going to say to you. But I can improvise, I’m sure.

It’s when I’m about three feet away from you that you look up at me and I kind of stop walking, your eyes taking in my appearance. There’s no look of recognition on your face and I didn’t expect there to be. When I open my mouth to say something, there’s a loud knock on the door and both of us are quick to look towards the door.

John is standing there, a huge smile on his face as he stands in the door way with his arms held open. The smile that lights up your features causes me to close my mouth and take a step back, putting my bag back on top of one of the desks, pretending to look busy. You zipper up the backpack and rush over to him, tucking yourself into his side and wrapping your arms around his waist. He laughs and says something about skipping last period but I don’t hear your response because he’s leading you from the room, leaving me alone.

You don’t look back once and I stare at the spot beside the desk you had just been standing in, my chest tightening as I do so. When I look up again, Jack is standing in the doorway and he has a sad smile on his face. I don’t need or want his sympathy, though. I grab my bag and push past him on my way out, heading for my next class.

For the first time, I wish I was as invisible as you make me feel.