He sees her standing there
Laughing
With her friends
She's so beautiful
Her dark hair swirling at her shoulders
She twirls it as she talks
He sighs
She would never talk to him
He could pretend that she liked him back
He could have fantasies about the two of them
How she would kiss his cheek
And he would do things he wasn't brave enough to do in real life
But in the end
It was pretend, these fantasies of her and him
Because bold, confident Alice Prewett could never love quiet bookworm Frank Longbottom
It just isn't done