Yellow

I was at the mall when I saw him today. He was walking with a group - some girl and guy, both shorter than he was, holding bags from the gift boutiques. I really don't know why I did, though, to be honest. I mean, it wasn't that he crossed directly in front of me or anything. I was standing in line to get myself some burger and chips (extra olives, please?) when I turned to look around. Who'd have thunk that the first face I'd catch a glimpse of would be his?

Anyway, something about today was different from all the other times I'd spot him. I wasn't overcome with an irrational blush, for starters. My hand didn't automatically reach for my cell phone to text my best friend and I didn't feel like hyperventilating. I just... I don't know. I just turned back to the girl behind the counter and ordered another bottle of water.

I know that means something though- my feeling that way. I don't know what exactly but I'm sure that it does. Dare I say that it meant I didn't care anymore?

The state of non-existent feelingness didn't last however. As soon as I got back to my seat, I started to twitch. Where was he sitting? Was he eating at the same restaurant I was? Was he in the pharmacy, getting something right now? Would I be able to steal a glance at him if I turned around again?

It wasn't a very happy lunch time for me. When I got up to walk back to the car, I felt disappointed - as if life had thrown me this bright streak of red to brighten my day then so quickly painted over it again with a dull gray. He was my streak of red, by the way, for the longest time he was.

I'd smile a little whenever I saw him in the school cafeteria, or pass him in the corridors, freak out a little if I caught his eye. I'd spend just a few extra seconds brushing my hair, or picking my outfit for the very minute possibility that we'd cross paths that day. It even got to the point where I'd kind of memorised the times where I was most likely to see Harry- when he'd be in a class, or at the caf for lunch. If I didn't know me, I'd be disgusted with myself really. How could I have let my feelings for someone who didn't even know I existed get so out of hand?

So I buried myself in books, and movies, and friends and life. I buried myself into my life so that I'd keep from being so interested in his. Wasn't an easy job, I tell you. I had to actively turn my thoughts away from approaching him, or the memory of his smile. I had to make myself not care anymore. But none of that worked.

Until today.

No. I've gotten over him, I know that. My Extreme Infatuation to the Power of Infinity is fading. I'm growing up and I'm beginning to stop caring. Soon, I won't notice him in school any more, or anywhere else for that matter, and the memory of this crush will be as amusing as the memories of all my previous crushes are to me right now.

I'll be okay. It's all beginning to fade away. When I next see him, I won't care any more. I won't even blink, to be honest. I hope.

But Carla walks up to me, a grin wide enough to rival the Chesire Cat's on her face. "I have something to tell you!"

Perched on my usual stool, I watch her with mild disinterest. I'm much too caught up in my own thoughts to hear about new gossip.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Harry Anderson's asked me for your number. He asked me what the chances were of you saying yes."

The slow steady rhythm inside my chest quickens. Slowly, I unfold my legs from beneath me and lean forward.

"Chances of me saying yes to what?"

Carla waits a beat before replying. "The chances of you saying yes to a date with him this Saturday!"

I blink. I breathe. I smile.

And just like that, I'm falling once more.