It was a weird feeling.

To be pining away for someone so completely, but for them to be so oblivious. Or, at least, he thought she was oblivious. He was sure she was oblivious. With those big blue eyes and blonde hair, he was sure he had compitition. And Dorothy Ann was never aware of any of the obvious crushes other guys had, either.

Carlos Ramone was screwed.

Even he admitted it.

Carlos was also in love.

No. He wouldn't call it that. He might say it was an infatuation. A huge, poorly covered infatuation that everyone but the object of the said infatuation was aware of. Infatuation. That wasn't even really an appealing word at all, was it?

That was how he had come to stare at a certain blonde haired, ponytailed girl in science class. While the rest of the class had gone through their science workbook (Yes. 11th grade and they still had workbooks. It might have been because of the substitute teacher, though,) rather slowly, he and a few other students had zipped through it. (He, himself, finishing second only to DA)

While DA resigned to doing part of her English homework, (It was on the Scarlet Letter) Carlos decided to watch her. Nothing too blatant, that would be creepy, but sort of, let his eyes wander towards her now and then. He'd snap back to attention every time she moved his way.

He wasn't exactly sure why, himself.

-----

'Strange.' DA thought, starting to turn in her seat. She could have sworn she felt a pair of eyes on her back. The feeling disappeared, and she turned back to her introduction on her paper.

The bell rang. She noticed Carlos almost running out of the room.

'Stranger still.'

-----

Stupid stupid STUPID.

That was the only way Carlos cared to describe himself at the present. Three times, with some emphasis at the end. Instead of being nice and smooth as he had hoped, ("Hey, DA. Wanna catch a movie this weekend?") He had gotten two steps from her, had a sudden rush of nerves, (Since when did that happen?) and flew past her.

Well. Stumbled a little, then flew past.

Smooth, Carlos. Really smooth, even.

Well, anyway. You know the expression 'look before you leap?' Carlos didn't look before he went sailing out of the room, and effectively smashed head on with Florrie Johnston, resident cheerleader, gossip, and general ne'er do well.

Uhm. Scratch the last one, put flirt. Right. Moving on.

She had almost started shreiking, until she realized that the huge, gangly nerd who had just shot out at her wasn't a nerd at all. She smiled sickeningly sweetly at him, while he nervously apologized, eyes darting around for a certain blonde.

Florrie either chose not to notice this or was also oblivious.

It was irritating either way as she wrapped a long, thin arm around his waist and started dragging him along, despite her small size.

DA couldn't help but feel a little out of the loop as she watched this from the science room doorway.

-----

"Phoebe!" almost at a complete shrill, DA practically screamed at her from accross the hall way. Cringing at the high sound, the auburn haired girl turned slowly. She had cocked an eyebrow. DA fought the urge to laugh and continued her shrilling, but at a quieter tone now that they were within 3 feet of each other. "Why didn't anyone tell me Carlos and Florrie were going out?"

"Carlos and Florrie are going out? I didn't know that."

"They didn't tell you, either?"

"Honestly, I don't think they are. Why do you care if they are, anyway?"

The blonde haired girl flicked her blue eyes to the ground, a slightly angry blush attacking her face. "W-what do you mean? He's my best friend! I should know what's happening with him and girls!" She felt her ears get hot.

Phoebe smiled knowingly. "I'm sure. Go ask Carlos, because I don't know. Honestly, I don't."

DA turned on her heels.

-----

Carlos had finally pulled away from Florrie into his Pre-Calc class. Florrie seemed disappointed, but continued on to her Literature class anyway, which was a big relief for him.

Until a very mad Dorothy Ann Parker sat down right next to him.

"DA? That's not your seat." He said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

"I do not care if this is not my seat, Carlos Miguel Ramone! What I do care about is that you didn't bother to tell me that you were going out with.. with.. with," she took a breathe here, looking simply furious, "that little hussy," she hissed this out, leaning in so only the two could here, "Florrie Johnston!"

He didn't know what she was talking about. He told her this.

"Oh, I SAW you with her hand around your waist in the hall today!" She still looked completely angry and quite mad, so much so that the original occupant of the chair she sat in didn't even want to ask her to move.

Carlos laughed, sheepishly again. "You saw that? Because that was all her."

"I'm SURE, Carlos!" She said, sharply and sarcastically, standing up quickly and flouncing to her seat.

"DA!" He said, mopefully. "Don't be like that."

She ignored him.

So he wouldn't ask her to the movies this weekend. He was sure of that.

... Wait. Why was she freaking out so much?

He pondered this, and a wide grin spread across his face.

There was hope for them yet.

-----

End.

Awful, isn't it?

I feel like I copped out with the ending.