The sun slices the monotonous Tuesday sky. I sit beside you, a ready accomplice to making a great day out of what has been bleakly given to us. You reach for the radio dial, changing the station. You reach for my hand, changing me.

I don't know which comes quicker: your lazy smile that reaches up your eyes, or its silent, sudden way of putting me at ease at the very first sight. Whatever the answer is, there's one thing I know for sure. I tripped over a wire and fell deeper than I imagined I would. I'm slowly losing at a game I once thought I knew how to play.

You don't seem to notice how my eyes follow you around the room, or how your stare lifts the weight I carry around. You make fun of me a lot, and I take it all in stride, but deep inside, I wonder if you really see me that way. I think about it a lot because I know there are millions of better girls - pretty, smart, sweet things, and yet, you find a minute to share alone with me. That, more than anything, lights up this fire in me.

I don't know where this might lead us. I'm not banking on anything - you might like me back, you might not. That doesn't matter to me as much as it probably should. At least, I don't think it does. I've told myself a thousand times, repeatedly, how the oncoming pain is not worth it, but then our arms accidentally brush each other, and sparks begin to crackle in my skin. You have gotten through me the way very few people have, and everyone notices.

Everyone notices but you.