I sat in my Maths class, sighing while doodling inattentively in my notebook; hoping that God might send a bomb to blow the place apart. Out of all my record of bad days till now, I was having one of the top ten.

My acne had flared viciously, making my already subzero self-esteem sink lower and lower.

My new friend seemed a nice enough girl, that was true. A bit proactive and overenthusiastic for my taste, but still quite kind. A new revelation: life could sometimes give you a good thing in return to the bunch of crap you have.

Regardless, college life was hell. I was itching to just put my iPod in and listen to another heartbreaking song to fill the vacant space in my life. With no social life existing to brag about and the lack of enthusiasm of such a life, I deemed myself as a laid back, worthless and emotionally disturbed teen. I forgot to mention also that while every girl known to exist on the face of earth, or most of them anyway, wanted to flirt and have as much admirers as possible in addition to their current boyfriend, I was not. As pathetic as that might sound, my being craved love. I wanted to love someone like the couple in that famous story, not a casual fling that turned into passion. My train of thought was sinking back into my gloom. Sighing, I thought rationally that if I saw someone good-looking enough, I might fall.

A bit egotistical, you might call me; but really I am still a girl. Every girl has her expectations; and as much as mine were not that high-I am not a beauty queen after all-I still wanted someone handsome.

Karma didn't disappoint.

Halfway through the class, the door opened and one of the most attractive guys I ever laid eyes on entered. An incarnation of my dream charmer. Eyes that were sharp and light, hair messy and bronze, tall and slightly lanky, topping my favourite six feet. His features, posture and walk screamed cocky; a trait that I had a spot that you might just call more than soft. Note to self: add masochistic to my list of qualities.

He was headed towards the only empty chair in the class.

Beside me.

Okay.

Whether it was because of his unambiguous beauty or because I had a self-destructive nature, but I wanted to stare at him.

Right on cue, his pencil dropped to the floor and with unimaginable grace, he leaned down, giving me a perfect view of his tousled hair, grabbed it and jerked upwards. In the process, his hand slammed onto my thigh. He apparently was overly arrogant; he didn't bother with even glancing my way.

Hey! He didn't even look at you girl. A voice in my head screeched at me.

Great. I was having a MPD.

I wanted to see him. Now.

My eyes kept on making trips from my book to the door to and fro with increasing frequency, my anxiety growing exponentially over time. Trying to revert myself from this, I reasoned with myself:

Why?

He doesn't know you.

It's been weeks.

You're desperate for love that you can't stop clinging to a passerby?

He didn't come by the time the class started, and on the entrance of the teacher I slumped back in my seat, dejected.

Pathetic. The voice told me again. This time I more than agreed with it.

Halfway again through class, he entered with a sure air, his striking stature moving with agility that I more than lacked, apologising to the teacher for his tardiness while his friend was trailing behind him.

Breathe.

He sat to the left, a position my neck was currently cranked towards and my eyes were raking his pale profile, tracing the prominent cheekbones, the pointed chin and moving over his glorious, shining hair. I wondered why the reasons behind the frown albeit it gave his face such a dangerous edge. I was such a sap.

My eyes met his friend's.

Ouch. Instant neck crack, I am sure. My face flushing with my mortification, I gazed unseeingly forward while trying to reassemble my jumbled thoughts.

The teacher was taking attendance and that's when I first knew his name.

Luckily my friend was here to distract me from my self-inflicted torture. My mind was occupied while I chatted mindlessly to her due to an incidence yester night. I was happy when I noticed a guy in the street that I thought looked good. May be that means that I am free from a stupid someone. Someone who doesn't seem to know I exist in the first place.

Wrong.

My eyes flashed to his name on the attendance sheet, trying to memorise it.

Stop it.

He is here. He just saw you looking at him and you avoided his gaze when he looked.

No need to be more hooked up.

I have no name for this but I'm sure as hell it's not a crush.

Yeah right.

I was just entering the library ground floor, laden with books and full with a box of mcflurry Oreo to dig into while I droned over my English assignment. Apparently in one of my former lives, I did something really hideous because at that moment, he sat- all in his pale glory- reading a book.

I made a U-turn and strode out of the floor to the stairs to, in vain, find a spot where my thoughts kept from harassing me with him, or his presence.

Why doesn't he come anymore? It has been over a week since he attended a class or showed up in college at all. Moreover, his friend just looked at me in a weird way, somehow accusatory.

I wonder what's wrong…I can't imagine him being sick, my insides were gripped in despair at the thought of his discomfort. May be he is travelling, dropped out…

Don't overreact honey, it's nothing. He isn't even a crush, is he?

For this, I had no answer.

Today I was desperate to see him. Our exam is today, he can't skip that. Or can he?

In an attempt to rule out some of the possibilities, I checked his assignment sheet and it was there. At least he didn't drop out.

I checked his name on the University Chat. I thought about him 25 times last night, I thought of him while listening to "yours to hold" and I have to say, the lyrics fit perfectly. Skillet is a genius.

I'm stretching but you're just out of reach

You should know I'm ready when you're ready for me

And I'm waiting for the right time

For the day I catch your eye

To let you know

That I'm yours to hold

Great

I am too far gone. I thought that it was just a crush.

So it is a crush now?

Yeah, I think so.

By this point I was in our exam hall, praying for him to appear instead of my usual last-minute revisions. I really needed to sort out my priorities! At least I did study instead of drooling mentally over his perfect, glorious, naughty smile or his slim and fit body, or his strong, muscular hand that I ogled at when he sat next to me in our first class, the day that changed my life. Whether to the better or the worse, I was still undecided. I spotted my friend entering smiling her easy smile. Behind her was his friend, standing at the door.

He was standing behind it.

I shook, trembled and tried to reassemble my thoughts.

My friend sat next to me, leaving some chairs just like the teacher ordered. I think she tried to chat but I was beyond notice. My feelings that I repressed all night- by sleeping 10-minutes intervals and by studying till my head burst-inundated me.

He walked past me- with me staring at him- till he reached my row and sat down with the traditional space of some chairs between us, the other side of the one my friend was occupying.

Coincidence

Don't encourage yourself

My friend asked me to ask him to move a few chairs down the row; but I blatantly refused, I can't talk to him, I'll make a fool out of myself. I have been gaping like a fish at him openly.

He responded to her in a rude way. I, in all my cruel selfishness, forgot to be offended by the sharp insult of my friend and found myself marveling over the musical tones of his voice.

Self-centered bitch

I know I am but thank God I didn't talk; I am not sadistic so that I could relish in her injury but I am not masochistic too to crave my own, and my agony could have been much more than hers.

By that point I admitted to myself that I like him, to a tiny extent.

So wrong.

I moved to the front rows; cursing the teacher- who told me to do so a second ago- in the process and stumbling on a couple of stairs. I am so much of a dumb ass, I admit, no wonder he doesn't notice me…

Just shut the fuck up and concentrate on your exam, and we will grieve later okay?

I tried to look for him but I couldn't find any sign of his presence.

God please just one glimpse.

I had another exam to attend in five minutes and my silent prayers echoed around my head, hoping and supplicating to see him just this once. My rational side knew it was wrong, that I might get hurt; after all, I never talked to him before. However, there was no control over my emotions. I still hoped.

There was no avail.

I sat scribbling furiously, trying to finish in the exam's time quota so that I could resume my incessant, yet ridiculous, searching when a gray colour flashed in my peripheral vision.

His t-shirt

With a smile and a silent thanks to God, I scribbled the last note and sprinted out of the class in the direction he walked in.

I peeked through the door of the class in the end of the hallway, trying to find him. I saw a head of bronze hair

He was there. I sighed, knowing that even if I stood there for the next few eons, he would never notice me. I couldn't just help myself, look at those eyes, their mysterious light colour, and the hair….I could just wait here forever, going on and on about the incarnation of Adonis sitting in the class.

Sick puppy

I know, stalker-like behaviour, but I can't help it.

My phone beeped and I answered my friend. A quick chit-chat resulted in her walking down the same hallway in which his class is in, again. A stroke of rarely-found curiosity compels me to discover what is in the end, I told her. We trudged slowly down the hall, my breaths picking up as I walked…I was getting another glimpse.

I sat with my friends at the bench opposite to the stairs where I was sure he was going to leave from….it was the only exit to the building after all. A surge of gratitude passed through me for the girl who handed me a map for the university a few days ago. It surely came in handy.

Suddenly, he bolted down the stairs and out of my sight, all the while talking to someone on his cell phone.

Frustrated, I told my friends to wait for a second and I followed his path, a few feet behind him when I saw her.

I saw a girl, not just any girl, a blonde, tall, absolutely breathtaking girl who could kick my ass any day in the looks department. She walked next to him, sashaying through the crowds of people leaving the university. I felt that I took the slap I so deserved, seeing him grin at her, true happiness shining through his eyes.

Another chorus jumped into my head

Every single day

I find it hard to say

I could be yours alone

You will see someday

That all along the way

I was yours to hold

I was yours to hold

But I was not his, not now, not ever

He was not mine.

I ran back to my friends and snatched my bag with "I am leaving. Tired" and practically sprinted after them to the parking lot. They were nowhere in sight. My tears leaked through my closely shut eyes and down my cheeks, my fists were clenched at my sides and I was shaking with repressed sobs.

I opened my eyes just in time to see his car pass by, a black sedan, with the blonde sitting next to him, in the passenger seat.

I kept singing in a low voice my own version of the song that till today causes me so much agony.

Every single day

I find it hard to say

I could be yours alone

I will see someday

That all along the way

I was never yours to hold.

Then, standing alone in the dark parking lot, the sun setting behind my back, I lost all hope.

And tonight, I dreamt of him.