The Boy With the Pink Backpack

How We Began

• For my love •

If you don't tell him now, you never will. Tell him, Annie. Tell him how you feel about him.

Lucas is typing....

Lucas: What did you want to talk about?

Do I just tell him? What do I do?

Annie is typing....

God, I have to tell him. Come on, Annie. If he doesn't like you back, then there's just a few months left of senior year and you'll never see him again, except maybe at class reunions.

Me: I need to tell you something now, or I'll never have the guts to say it.

Lucas is typing....

What if he doesn't like me?

I have doubted myself my entire life. I have never thought I was good enough. Never thought someone would ever truly love me. As a young girl, I watched my parents' marriage fall apart, leading me to believe that their fate would be mine, too. I have never really given love a chance.

But Lucas is my best friend. Well, my best friend that I've had feelings for since the day I met him.

-

Third period chemistry. I organized my desk as I sat waiting for the bell to ring. One notebook, two pencils, one pen, all neatly arranged. I glanced up as more students came through the door into the classroom, I recognized every face.

Then, there he was. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes, stunning. I hadn't recognized him. I blushed and glanced down before someone would see me gawking.

He would never like me. He is so handsome, and I'm just me.

I kept my eyes to the floor and looked at him from the corner of my eye.

Is that his pink backpack? He seems so confident. He has to be, of course, to survive sophomore year with a bright neon pink backpack.

"Who's that?" I whispered to my friend, Drew, who grabbed the seat behind me.

"Oh, that's Lucas. He's new. Why?" Drew narrowed his eyes with a smirk.

"Nothing, just wondered."

Lucas. Boy with the pink backpack.

Maybe someday.

-

Lucas: What is it?

Me: I like you. I've liked you since I met you. But I don't think you would ever like me.

Lucas: Why do you think I wouldn't like you?

Me: Because I'm me.

Lucas is typing....

Here it comes. He doesn't like me. Why would he? I'm me. And he's him. I'll only have to suffer through the embarrassment until May. I can do that, I guess.

I feel sick.

Lucas: I've always liked you, Annie.

I blush and feel butterflies in my tummy.

Annie is typing....

Me: Really?

I'm me. And he's him. Maybe there will be an us. Me and the boy with the pink backpack.