The very idea that someone has finally seen me doesn't leave my mind. It doesn't matter to me that she's pretty-in fact, I can't say for sure that she is. I know her hair is, her eyes are, her body is, and that's enough for me to believe that the rest of her is probably gorgeous. Maybe she has a gap between her two front teeth or her nose is a bit too big for her face. I find that I don't really care. All I can think about is how to find her again so I can repeat her words back to her.

She's not one of the elite, or I'd already know her name. That means finding her again won't be easy, but I'm up to the challenge. If she were in any of my classes, I'd have noticed her before; of that, I'm sure. I think back to the books I helped her pick up, and I remember there was an American Lit text. I had that last semester, so that doesn't help me much. It does tell me where she is during first period, though. I can stalk her…um, I mean, wander up and down that hallway every morning with the hopes of seeing her again. It's not much, but it's definitely a start.

Then there's the little problem of what I'll say to her when I do find her again. I wonder if I can tell her that she totally rocked my whole life in just one moment. Even I realize how ridiculous this sounds. I'm wondering if I'm a little crazy, and it's an uncomfortable feeling. I like to think I'm a pretty normal guy, but that one minute in my nondescript life has rattled me completely.

"If you'll pass up your homework from last night, we'll get started."

I'm jerked back to the present when Mr. Richards speaks. He didn't notice me walking in late because he was putzing around in his office until well after the bell rang. I doubt he would have said anything anyway. He's a pretty cool teacher. As long as we don't get too unruly, he pretty much lets us do whatever we want. That grace doesn't extend to ignoring homework, so I pass up the essays I wrote last night.

With our papers safely on his desk, he begins the lecture and I turn back to thoughts of the girl. Stalking-um, seeking her out-doesn't seem like the best idea, but I don't even know what else I can do. I could ask around, but I'm not sure I know anyone well enough to be all, "Hey, there's this girl with brown hair and brown eyes and a body that won't quit… Know anyone like that?" What I know about her could describe about a hundred of the girls in this school. And I know for a fact that there's no one else like her.

"Hey!"

A whisper from beside me breaks me from my trance, and I turn to see a tiny girl leaning in my direction. She's cute-with really short, back hair and bright blue eyes. I brush my own hair back so I can see her better.

"Can I borrow a pen?" She holds her hands up with a sheepish grin, and I see that she's covered in blue ink. It's the same color as her eyes.

"Jeez, what'd you do?" I mumble, searching in my bag for an extra pen. "Whatever you did, don't do it to my pen. I want it back."

She takes the pen with a smile and smears the ink from her hands all over it. I'm about to protest when she winks and effectively shuts me up. Her cheeky little smile is familiar, and I realize that I was about to snap at Alice Brandon. She's one of the elite, mostly because of her position as co-captain of the cheerleading squad. I know she's been sitting next to me since the beginning of the semester, but I had pretty much blocked everyone out after my seat was assigned. It's the first connection I've made with anyone in several weeks-if I don't count staring like an idiot at the beautiful girl in the hall-and likely to be the last.

Unless…

Maybe Alice knows who the brown-eyed girl is. I can't ask her outright, but I can maybe talk to her a little bit so that it's not so weird when I do finally bring up the subject. With this plan in place, I shuffle through my bag for some hand wipes.

When I set them on the corner of the desk, she smiles gratefully and then rips into the package. The smell of alcohol permeates the air as she covers sheet after sheet with swirls of blue. As a gesture of apology, she uses one more to clean the pen I gave her, making me laugh under my breath.

We probably wouldn't have spoken again, but suddenly Mr. Richards informs us that we need to choose a partner. Before I can panic, Alice scoots her desk over to be flush with mine. I'm too surprised to say a word, so I shrug and accept the situation. She introduces herself, like I don't already know who she is, and I return the gesture.

I'm glad that she pays attention in class when it comes time to start working. I have no idea what Mr. Richards told us to do, so she patiently explains that we're to put together a presentation that we'll give next week. Again, I'm thrilled to have Alice for a partner because speaking in front of the class has never been one of my strong suits.

"So we should pretend to do a séance and let Andrew Jackson talk through us, do you think?" Alice is chattering away, and all I catch is the word séance, which immediately snaps me to the present.

"What? A séance? I thought we were talking about history…" My confusion is evident in my voice, and it makes her laugh.

"Where's your head, Edward?"

I think for a moment about making something up, but the words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. "I met a girl before this class."

She gives a little squeal and wriggles in her seat a little bit. "What's her name?"

"I have no idea." I bow my head in acknowledgment of my idiocy. I can't even flash a dirty look when Alice laughs at me again.

"Usually, 'meeting' requires exchanging names," she admonishes with a giggle.

"Yeah, well…"

The story comes in starts and fits, but I'm eventually able to share the words that the girl left me with. They still play over and over in my head. Christ, you're beautiful.

"Wow," Alice says with a shiver. "So romantic! You are pretty cute, you know. When you move your hair and I can see your eyes, anyway. Do you have contacts? If you do, you should wear them. The glasses look really good on you, but your eyes are too pretty for them."

Overwhelmed, I sit back in my chair and contemplate what she's said. Alice Brandon thinks I'm cute, which means it really is possible that the girl from earlier was being serious. There's a part of me that's afraid she was teasing me, but if Alice says it…

"I don't have contacts," I finally answer. "But I could get some, I guess."

"And a haircut," she adds quickly, apparently convinced I'm not offended by her suggestions.

It actually hadn't occurred to me to be upset by her words, but I guess some people might take them the wrong way. To me, it seemed like she was trying to give me advice to get the girl. For that, I'm utterly grateful. Of course, to get the girl, I still have to find her.

"I have no idea," Alice says when I ask.

It was a long shot anyway, asking her. I mean, like I said, she could be one of hundreds of girls in the school.

"I'll look out for her," Alice adds. "If I see any girls in my classes today that match her description, I'll let you know tomorrow. We can compare notes."

I don't have the heart to tell her that I probably wouldn't recognize the girl myself unless I saw her eyes. They're the only part of her I can remember.

Thanks again to TiffanyAnne3, who graciously did a quick beta job on this one.