Hidden

I was almost gone, almost completely disappeared into the enveloping throng of people, but then I paused, looking back at my girl.

She had halted mid-stride, swinging on leg around as she attempted to keep her balance and turn. Panic fluttered in my chest like a startled bird as she began striding in my direction. She was still by herself; the crowd of people didn't thicken until the hall merged.

I slid my hands into my pockets and leaned against the window next to another kid, trying to melt into the background, so that I could watch my girl unseen.

She was already walking past me, and I felt a slight horror bloom inside as I saw her black diamond eyes sweep over me and the boy I was standing next to. They lingered on me, curiosity flaring, until she was forced to look forward; it was a busy hall, and it was almost dangerous to run into people.

Her concentration on me almost forced her to collide with a big black boy, who was walking next to an equally large white boy, but she managed to avert the encounter by turning sideways. It amazed me, how truly slender she was. As she turned the corner, her dark eyes found me again before disappearing behind the wall.

I breathed a sigh of relief, although it worried me slightly. I doubted, though, that such a pretty girl would remember every face she saw. She had probably already forgotten, I thought, and on that impulse, I made a decision.

I pushed off the wall and walked at a normal pace, scanning the crowd for the dark, glossy waves and slender back of my girl. Finally, I spotted her, turning to squeeze through the crowd. I followed, carefully staying enough steps behind her that I could both keep up with her and look unnoticeable doing it.

She twisted and turned many times through the surges of students, speeding up and slowing down so often that I wasn't completely sure of her intentions. Finally, she spun around a couple that nearly ran into her, she was among the vending machines. I leaned against the wall in the corner, behind a larger group of people.

Her long hand dove into her pocket, and she drew out a slightly-crumpled dollar bill, and fed it into the machine. She pressed the button repeatedly, impatiently. The machine rumbled, and then she reached down to retrieve the drink, which turned out to be a Coca-Cola.

Sighing, I watched as she hurried up the stairs. I let her go, fearing that I was becoming obvious, that my girl was starting to know of my existence.

I didn't want her to know that I was a person, I didn't want her to know who I was. I didn't want that, to intrude on this girl's life. It wouldn't be right.

So concealed I remained.