Elsa arrived back at school two weeks before Christmas break—you know, that horrible time when all the teachers are thrusting last-minute finals preparations on you.

Our eyes met, before I looked away. I couldn't look into her blue eyes. I couldn't allow myself to dream my suspicions were true, because there was honestly no way in hell Elsa would like me.

She barely even noticed me, and those "notices" she did grant me weren't obviously too kind.

I sometimes hated seeing her at school, in spite of the fact that she was as wonderful and beautiful as one bright star glimmering in an inky black sky.

I hated seeing her because she gave me hope. And that was not something I could afford in whatever relationship we possessed.