“Do you want to walk home with me?” The words still remain clearly etched in my mind. Scared there, like a white hot poker had branded them to the inside of my eyelids and I could not stop seeing them. Seeing the email I had sent to Chris, asking the question. I glanced about as I walked down the school hallway. There it was; his locker, number 1435. I wondered if today would be the day, if today I would finally get an answer after all of this waiting. Would he say yes? I had no idea. He had given me no information to go on, and I had no idea if he was remotely interested in me. I wanted to know what he would say.

It was two weeks ago when I had daringly emailed him the question. I had expected him to corner me at school and demand to know what it was about, but no. In fact he had hardly said a word to me at all in the last weeks. It was as if there was a constant war raging in his head; urging him to avoid me, not to talk to me, not to even make eye contact. Every day I checked my email, preparing myself for utter disappointment. But still, no response. After a couple of days I was making up excuses like,

“Oh, maybe he has too much homework. He’ll email me tomorrow”. Or something like, “He has RSM tonight, too much stress. Maybe in the next couple days.”

Finally after a week I received a reply. I braced myself for the news but all it said was, “I’ll think about it, though I’m pretty busy during the week.” Nothing more. I asked myself again, and again,

“What am I going to do?”

Each day in school was completely torturous, given that my crush wouldn’t look me in the eye, much less talk to me. I gazed at him as he talked to his friends, but he never seemed to notice me, never. Or maybe he noticed me, but was too freaked out from the email to even look at me. I was not the most “happy camper” those days, and my best friend thought that I was suicidal. I tried to catch his eye in the hall, but he just stared right through me as though I wasn’t even there at all.

I glance at him longingly today while he grabs binders from his locker, but then I force myself to move onward to my next class. I hear him talking to one of his best friends animatedly about the new Math Team meet next Thursday and think,

“Why am I wasting my time? It’s clear he has no interest in being with a girl who doesn’t like math.”

Last week, I overheard him talking with one of his friends Adam. They were by Adam’s locker, and I was across the hallway getting my binder and notebook. This conversation told me that he wasn’t going to talk to me until he figured out what he had to do about the email.

“Hey, man!” Chris called walking down the hallway with his arms full of papers.

“What’s up?” was the response of the blonde-haired boy, busy getting his backpack.

“Could you give me a hand?” Chris asked, suddenly nervous, as if he knew someone was watching. “I need some advice.”

“Uh oh, you having girl trouble again? Let me guess, you knocked one up and now you don’t know what to do about it. You don’t come to me unless you really are in a deep hole.”

“Uhhh,” Chris started, and then stopped. He tried again, “Uhhh, hypothetically, what would you do if you got an email from a girl, who had never emailed you before, which could potentially be asking you out? Would you talk to her, or what?” He blushed, and as if he knew I was there turned and looked right at me.

I immediately turned away, trying not to but making it obvious that I had been staring at him.

Adam looked interested, and surprised, maybe because Chris hadn’t ever had a girlfriend in middle school the way he had.

“So you’ve finally got a girl interested in you; ‘bout time.” He laughed “And you want the master’s opinion, now do you? I would talk to her as if nothing had ever happened and see what she does.” He pondered what he had said for a second, “Wait, never mind that. Don’t talk to her unless you’ve got a death wish. She’ll want to know whether you like her and it’ll be awkward.”

“‘Kay, thanks Man.” Chris said and then asked him “Why do girls have to be so big on romance. I think it should wait ‘til High School. Honestly!” He looked annoyed, tired and distracted and I pitied him for it.

“Not sure. But, I’ve got to go, Dude” Adam yelled, and he raced down the hall. “Good luck, amigo!!”

“Thanks, Adam. See you later!” The boy called to his best friend, and seeing that he was about to come in my direction, I ducked into my English class; eager to avoid another awkward encounter with my crush.

Anyway, that was last week, and it was then that I started worrying more than ever. Back to the present, I am almost to Math and out of the corner of my eye I catch the movement of his red sweatshirt coming in my direction. Confused, I try to imagine why he is going this way, because his next class is upstairs, nowhere near my class. My instinct tells me to turn around, but I fight it and continue on, the question of the boy’s movement weighting on my every step.

I hear a voice calling my name,

“Eli! Eli!”

It’s loud, but it’s almost drowned out by all of the locker doors slamming and the kids screaming in the hallway so I wait to figure out if it was all a figure of my imagination. Nope, there it is again,

“Eli! Eli! What? Are you deaf or something?”

I roll my eyes and turn, scanning the throngs of kids to see who the mysterious voice belongs to. OH MY GOD! It belongs to Chris! The guy I have been obsessed wit h for three months!

I call down the hall to him, “What do you want Chris?”

I stop by the door to Math and wait for him, as he jogs toward me around kids. Finally, he says between breaths, “I wanted to answer your email. So it won’t be awkward if I do it online.” I look at him incredulously,

“Well...”

His reply is simple and short. “Sure, it’d be fun. Email me about when.” Chris smiles at me before realizing that he’ll be late for History. “Shoot! I’ll be late.” He turns, “Catch you later, Eli!” he yells over his shoulder as the bell rings, signaling that he is indeed late for his class.