He always stands to the side, watching, waiting, never quite confident enough with himself to approach her. She always hangs out with the 'cool guys,' the 'hot' ones, the ones that would barely glance his way when he stumbles down the hallways at school or when they breeze past him on the street. She laughs and she flirts and she is great fun, always the life of the party and the breath of excitement and so vital.
Even when she sits alone on her doorstep at night and cries with loneliness.
x
She is the party, but everyone leaves the party eventually. No one stays behind to help fix the furniture or clean up all the rubbish or scrub at the stains in the carpet.
He would.
But, like with most things, he is never invited to any parties.
x
She watches him, even if he does not know it, and is bemused. He is lanky and timid, prone to stuttering when flustered, and, well, let's face it—he's not exactly popular. But there is an air of peace about him, like watching a storm from inside a safe, cool cottage.
She wonders what it's like.
And, even if she does not care to admit it, she resents him for it.
And, even if she does not care to admit it, she wishes she had what he does.
x
The peace he exudes is enticing.
She's always been one to do things her own way on her own terms. If she fancies someone, she goes up to him and tells him so.
Of course, she doesn't fancy him.
She just thinks his presence will be good for her.
(That's what she tells herself, anyway.)
But for some reason, she hesitates.
x
He decides he's had enough of waiting on the sidelines. He approaches her with a boldness that quickly dies the instant she turns around at the sound of her name.
He stutters. His invitation is inelegant, like most things he does. His face reddens as he looks away and he does not see the radiant smile she bestows upon him. Deciding that he needs to acknowledge her, she envelops him in a hug that surprises him so much, it takes a moment for him to respond in like.
She whispers quietly into his shoulder. He nearly misses it, but he doesn't, and it makes a shy, goofy grin spread across his features.
I've been waiting for you.
