"Paige!"

I jumped. Nichole had just entered the gym, closely followed by Brianee. Neither of them looked all-too-happy. Nichole continued quickly, as if she'd rehearsed exactly what she was going to say, "There you are! Okay, I know that you're still obsessing about that guy, and at first we didn't blame you. Even the second day, we understood and let you be, him being as hot as he is and having only talked to you before running off as he had. We understand that you are questioning your people skills and your ability to attract the opposite sex. But come on! He's a guy you don't even know! You've been moping around and barely talking to us, all lost in thought and depression. You're acting like - like you've just been cheated on by a guy you've been deeply in love with for years!" Here she leaned forward and spoke softer, with a tinge of sarcasm, "No offense, but it's pathetic."

Brianne cut in, "And then when we try to show you just how understanding we are and try to help you, you don't even really text us back! Now I see you don't even wait for us in the morning? What -"

But then her brain registered the slight smile that had lingered on my face since my conversation with Matt; the smile which Nichole had noticed a few seconds before.

I ignored their suddenly confused looks, "I'm sorry. You're guys are right."

"Why are you so happy?" Brianee demanded.

I shrugged, "Why not?"

Of course, that wasn't enough to satisfy them, and eventually I threw them a bone and told them that Matt was here today and had said 'hello' to me. Since I really didn't want to devulge back into the previous question or make the whole thing public knowledge, that was all that I told them. I realized that my story made me seem like fifty times more a pitiful failure than I had a few minutes ago, and so Nichole went back to scoffing at my patheticism. She was right to do so; I couldn't even get over how lame I was! Really, a guy talks to me and it makes my freaking day? Since when was I such a loser?

Even worse, I realized that instead of lessening my obsession with him, our brief conversation had only strengthened it - I was burning with curiosity about him. How did he feel about his past? What was his past? Why was his sister so hostile - was it because of the loss of their parents? Did he like his sister? He seemed to tolerate her with good humor. What was his favorite movie? Did he like music? Did he play an instrament? Where did they live, anyway? Did - no. I forced myself to stop asking these internal questions. No!

I was turning into a stalker!

Matthew didn't enter the gym again that day. I hated how much disappointment I felt by that simple fact.

I developed and followed religiously a new routine for the rest of the day, and could scarcely concentrate on anything else; I would get to class early, and eagerly note everyone who came through door, letting my hopes up just a little each time. Hoping, of course, that Matthew Black would be the next being to pass through the wooden threshold. But my hopes were usually dashed; by the time I entered fifth-hour Chemistry and plopped down in the seat next to Lorraine, I had despaired of having any other classes with Matt.

I might have imagined it, but I could have sworn that Lorraine watched me out the corner of her eye (or at least was somehow observing me and my every move) for the entire class period, even though she didn't look me full in the face, catch my eye or speak to me once.

In eighth hour English, I got a pleasant surprise - Matt not only came into the class, but sat next to me, sending my effing heart into effing overdrive, which naturally upset and angered me.

He caught my eye and grinned, but since he had come in late, we weren't able to talk.

English is one of my best subjects. I love English. Usually. But that Monday I absolutely detested English. I didn't want to read and decipher poetry - I wanted to talk to the prominent boy in the next desk. But once again my desires remained unsatiated and I left school that day with only a greeting and short conversation from Matt to cling to. '...to cling to'. Ugh.

What was happening to me? I was appalled and disgusted by the way I felt. Probably the best thing for me to do - the best thing for my sanity - would be to leave and never come back. In fact, that would also be the best thing for my future; my thoughts were always incoherent around him which wasn't really starting off the school year so grandly.

The real kicker was that it wasn't only that I couldn't think, but that I didn't want to think about anything but him when I was around him - or just in school. I was pretty sure that I wasn't the only girl in school who felt the way I did, but it seemed unlikely that even the loneliest girl in school felt it to the degree I did. I was not usually such a loser.

WHY DID I FEEL SO STRONGLY ABOUT HIM?

I didn't know him! I may have desperately wanted to and hopelessly needed not to, but I didn't!

Days turned into weeks, the weeks into months. Neither Matthew nor I missed a day of school. I developed an abhorrence for weekends.

Gym quickly became my favorite subject. Matthew Black and I were badminton partners and we dominated. We won every single game - he was a great player, and I was average, which worked.

Yes, he asked me to be his partner. Yes, part of the reason we almost lost a few games was because I couldn't stop looking and concentrating on Matthew, rather than the game. And yes, we talked. We talked between badmiton games and before class started. We talked before English started too, whenever he was there early. (I always was.) He never talked to me outside of these two times a day - not at lunch, in the hallways, at break, or after school. So I had to satisfy myself with living for the first and last hours of the day.

I had come to accept my patheticism - or at least, I just stopped caring about it.

We talked about everything - from the teaching style of Mr. Brown to world affairs, and everything in between. We talked about philosophy and habits and mythology and, literally, everything.

He was always asking questions about me; my hobbies, my achievements, my life, my feelings, my family, and just about everything else - he asked me things that I wanted to know about him. I had no idea why my boring life would be at all interesting to him, so he was probably just being polite in asking the questions.

When I asked Matthew questions about himeslf, he seemed extremely hesitant to answer them. I think he answered honestly when I asked about his dislikes and likes, the way he felt about some things and such, but about his life and his past, he was totally taciturn. And when he did say something, he skimmed over it or looked guilty. I had no idea why - it didn't really seem that it caused him pain, only that he was hiding something and felt guilty about hiding it, maybe. That guiltly look, of course, only increased my feeling of intrigue.

"You and Lorraine live with your cousins, right?" I asked him one day.

"Yep. And you live with your aunt Brenda," he replied, stating rather than asking, thus closing the subject.

I always felt just a little bit snubbed when we talked about him - and also left me a little miffed. I mean, he could ask me all these questions about myself, but I couldn't ask him any about himself?

So I had to settle for learning him based on his short replies - but mostly through our conversations about everything else. I learned his every look - I knew when he was joking, hiding something, teasing, sad, frustrated - his face was pretty easy to read. Especially because I learned it so well. Usually he tried to keep his emotions hidden, but futiley. And I loved that about him.

My feelings for him only grew over time and, had I not known better, I'd have said that I was well on the road to falling in love with him. The true, real love in stories and movies, not the kind that every teenager thinks they've experienced. And I hadn't gotten over how much that scared me.

But of course, I didn't fall in love. Period. It wasn't something I did. I didn't let myself love anybody. There was no way I could love this boy - and we weren't even dating, anyhow. We were just friends. He only saw me as a friend. If that. He probably just saw me as an acquaintence.

I continued to ditch my other friends in gym. They weren't happy, but they got me all the rest of the day (except Chemistry and English) so they didn't complain too much. Plus, I was back to being my spunky, dramatic self - except maybe a bit happier than I had been before.

I tried to talk to Lorraine a few more times but was met with the same hostility as before. So I gave up on even achieving a nice acquaintenceship with her.

And Matthew and I talked continued to talk in gym, and for a few minutes before English.

He still never asked me on a date, or to hang out outside of our two mutual classes.

Part of me was immensly chagrined by this, but another part of me was very relieved. If he asked me on a date, I would undoubtedly say yes. And, as I have made quite clear, that would scare me - I was already in too deep with him.

Even now;

I was terrified of my feelings for him.