Why I Couldn't Hit "Send"

For the boy who gave me butterflies

For The Boy Who Gave Me Butterflies

            You crept up on me.

            It wasn’t like those moments in movies where the new kid walks into the classroom and makes instant eye contact with the shy girl. And BOOM. We were in love.

            Actually, to be honest, I don’t remember the exact moment we met.

            For the past four years, you were just the boy who was a locker away from me. We never interacted once; you were friends with some of the guys I used to go to school with, but that was as close as we got.

            In our freshman year, you were in all the smart math classes and I was in all the smart science classes. You ran track and cross-country, and I was a cheerleader and a swimmer. You were strictly a two-feet-on-the-ground type of guy and I liked to fly twenty feet up in the air and soak myself in pool water.

            To me, you were that one guy who came into high school with a girlfriend. Later on, you became the guy who dated the girl’s varsity basketball team captain as a sophomore. And for the next three years, you were always just the guy who was always just one locker away from me.

            Our paths never crossed, and I don’t think the universe ever intended them to cross… until now.

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            It’s senior year. It’s a hot day during the month of September and I greet you with an unexpected enthusiastic, “Hey you!”

            And you grin back at me, as politely as a locker neighbor can.

            “Hey.”

            We’re in the same A.P. science class now, because you’re more ambitious with your class selections. And you’re less ambitious with girls now, which makes sitting next to you in science class less nerve-racking.

            Yes, even as a senior, I still get nervous around boys. I don’t think girls like me ever get over this feeling. Especially with boys who are as smart as you. Because, for me, intelligence is a major turn-on.

            You know what else is a turn-on? Boys who read.

            Look at that, you happen to be carrying a copy of my favorite dystopian novel, ‘Divergent’.

            “You’re reading that?” Pardon the monumental amount of shock in my voice. It’s just shocking to find a guy who actually reads books outside of the assigned reading list for English.

            “No, I’m lending it to a friend,” you explain, your voice shaking minimally.

            For a guy who is a foot and a half taller than me, you seem really nervous as you’re looking down at me.

            “That’s cool,” I reply as normally as I can with my neck slightly craned to look up at you. “I just really liked that book. I hope your friend likes it too.”

            Just as I consider walking away, there’s a gentle light that shines behind your eyes and you smile that shy smile of yours again. And then I curse myself for not ever noticing that killer smile before. “Have you read the second book yet?” 

            “Nope. I haven’t gotten the chance to go to Barnes & Noble lately.”

            “I have the second one. Do you want to borrow it?”