i'm hoping at the gates they'll tell me you're mine

~

~

Her name is Charlotte.

She's a year younger than you, and all you know is that no one has heard of her.

They say that there wasn't a Charlotte in her grade, but you swear you've seen her wander aimlessly around the halls during lunch. She also dropped her papers on October 27, the first time you met her. It had clearly said Charlotte atop the paper.

When you handed her back the paper, she smiled with wide green eyes, thanking you, and left you in the middle of the hallway, staring at her tiny figure. You smile back (mostly to yourself), whispering the words "you're welcome," that seemed to bounce against the walls.

She's a year younger than you, and all you know is that her name is Charlotte, you thought she was beautiful, and no one notices her.

~

Your friends think you're weird. You talk about her a lot in many conversations, seeing her in everything. Like, "Hey, her skin was as light as that rug," or "That latte looks like the color of her hair," And they say that you are insane and that you were utterly obsessed with this girl that they have never met. You just shrug because you know better, and it was their loss they haven't seen her.

~

It was in February when you start seeing her more often.

February 3, to be more exact.

She's in the hallway again, reading a book with the paper cover ripped off and you walk up to her. "Hey," you say as nonchalantly as possible.

She tilts her head up, eyes large and gleaming, and she smiles. "Hi."

"Charlotte, right?" You think it's creepy to know her name like that, because honestly, why wouldn't it be? But it's too late to take it back so you just grin sheepishly, scratching the imaginary itch at the back of your head.

Charlotte smiles. "Yes. And you're Nathaniel."

You blink, too shocked to find it weird. "Nate, it's Nate."

She smiles, showing off her pearly teeth. "Hi, Nate, it's nice to meet you." She extends a delicate hand towards you, and you shake it firmly.

"It's nice to meet you, too." You cough. "I'll see you around?"

Her eyes gleam. "Okay."

And then she leaves you again in the middle of the hallway, watching her soft brown hair sway behind her.

~

Two days later, you see her when you're walking home from school. She's wearing a long dress and reading a thick book that definitely wasn't the same one she had when you ran into her last time because this one actually had a cover.

She can read that fast? you ask yourself as you walk over, sitting next to her. Charlotte shuts her book, and looks up. "Hi," she greets.

"New book?" you ask, pointing towards the large thing on her lap.

Charlotte nods. "Yes, of course."

You crane your neck, trying to see the cover. "What's it called?"

She shrugs and lifts the book up to see that the title and author had been scribbled on with black marker. "I didn't think it was important."

And then the both of you talk about your day, and what you notice is that everything unimportant to most people is very important to her. Like the amount of dirt under her nail, and the type of phase of the moon it's going to be that night- if the moon was even visible at all. It's all very odd, and you like that about her very much.