***POV is noted in the chapter title

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It's been five years, one month, and thirteen days since I last spoke to Jamie Gallagher. Now he won't even look at me when we pass each other in the halls. Though, I can't really blame him. I abandoned him first.

We were best friends, once upon a time. It seems so surreal now. Our friendship feels like a dream—a dream I've struggled to pull myself from for nearly a year—that's how long I've been home. And yet, he remains superglued to my thoughts like gum to hair. Like, chopping him from existence might be the only way of getting him out of my head—as morbid as that sounds.

Now I sit here watching him like a creep from the sidelines. It's sad really. Even when he looks at me, he's not actually looking. It's as if he's pushed any memories of us to the very back of his mind, eager to forget the girl he once cared for.

I've gone nearly a full year without any real acknowledgment from Jamie. I don't blame him. When I left without a word, I know that hurt. It's just unfortunate that the little crush I'd started to develop on Jamie in Jr. High never fully vanished. And now that I'm back—seeing him on a daily basis in school—those feelings have flared to life again. The most heartbreaking part about all this isn't so much the fact that Jamie ignores me, but rather, that he seems to legitimately despise me.

It's fine that he holds a grudge, but 'holding' implies that it can be let go. The anger Jamie has for me is more like a growth. It's a part of him; a disease that has manifested itself to him like a leech as it sucks any and all hope for forgiveness from his body.

My first day back, I remember the knot of nerves and excitement that bubbled together in my stomach. I had a few friends who still remembered me, but the only one I really cared about was Jamie. I remember how my eyes had searched the halls as I'd made my way to my new locker, and the moment I'd spotted him, my world had exploded. He was no little boy, that's for sure. Lean arms had replaced arms that once resembled noodles, his round child-like face had been sculpted into lines of maturity—baby fat no longer an issue—and his shaggy mop of hair had been styled to perfection.

I'd watched him goofing off with his friends, anxious for him to catch my eye. But when he did, I was not expecting the cold, lifeless look that he returned. He watched me for a moment, the initial shock when he'd first spotted me fading within milliseconds, only to be replaced with pure malice.

He hated my guts.

Now that I've been back for most of the school year, I've strengthened the relationships with two of my old friends—though Jamie isn't one of them. Rather than return to how things once were, I now have to watch him from a distance. My heart aches for more, but his eyes warn me to steer clear... and while everything in my nature tells me to ignore his warnings, I don't.

Jamie and his four good friends share a strong bond melded together by the fact that they all crave adventure. I'm not just talking road trips and visiting the hidden treasures of the world. I'm sure they'd still enjoy that, but what they really desire is that cliff jumping, mountain climbing, risk your life by being stupid kind of adventure.

So, for Jamie to ever take notice of me: the safe, Asian girl who does her best in school and has a simple dream to be a veterinarian, then I'm probably not the thrill he's looking for. But, fortunately for me, I'm a dreamer. I catch a glimpse of a possibility and my mind explodes, ideas breeding off of each other. It's who I've always been. Nothing is unachievable when you allow your mind to dream big enough... that's what I believe anyway. So, here I sit, dreams flourishing from my mind like a pack of rabbits. Soon, ideas will start leaking out my ears and then there will be no choice but to take action.

Honestly, I sort of look forward to that day.

I remember the fidgety, quiet boy from Jr. High, but the sight of him today causes a warmth to gather in my chest. He's comfortable in his own skin, the confidence that he gives off is attractive in a way that a face could never be. He's a 'live for the moment' kinda guy, which I admire, and the more I observe him, the more I admire him.

Unfortunately, my time to ogle from afar is almost up. The year is coming to an end and since Jamie is already a senior, I'm realizing that this could be my last chance to fix things. My mind begins its typical tradition of blossoming with ideas—dating him being the most frequented idea, though I know how unrealistic that might be. But somehow, watching him smile at his friends, laugh at silly jokes, skateboard down the steps of the high school, or attempt stunts off the tables that line the school's outdoor courtyard, make me believe that if I was his girl, we'd never be unhappy.

And that's exactly where my mind is stuck at this very moment: on Jamie Gallagher.

I'm enjoying a lunch of spaghetti with a bag of chips as I sit watching Jamie nurse a sprained wrist after trying to compete against his friend Drew for who could hold the longest handstand. Jamie lost, but only because his hand slipped out from underneath him, twisting with a painful crunch. At least it sounded like a crunch, but that could have just been a potato chip being demolished between my teeth.

I'm currently sitting on the indoor bleachers, awaiting lunch to end and PE to begin as I stare unabashedly at Jamie and his four friends as they goof off on the basketball courts. Even now, with his wrist bound and held protectively to his chest, Jamie is still smiling. It's as if he's entirely unaffected by pain.

"Hey-lo!" Justine belts inches from my ear.

She's one of my best friends, but the idea of tearing out her voice box has definitely crossed my mind a time or two... or twelve. I jolt back with a sudden desire to shove a roll of toilet paper down her throat to muffle the noise, but when I imagine pieces of it getting stuck to her esophagus on the way down, I realize how awful that'd be. The horrible idea deflates my irritation and instead of attacking her the way I'd love to, I simply roll my eyes.

"Hey."

"Nice to see you too, Grumpy McDumpy Pants," Justine mutters, running a finger along her bottom lip to smooth out her lipstick. This is the first time we've seen each other all day because as horrible as it is, I share no classes with any of my friends.

"You look pretty," I grumble, half because I'm annoyed at how beautiful she looks even with a buzzed head, and half because I'm simply a grouch. I got a disappointing grade on my American History exam and it's disintegrating any ounce of cheer that I'd harbored earlier in the day.

I watch her pull a compact mirror from her purse and glance at her reflection. Her teeth almost shine in comparison to her brown skin as she smiles at herself.

"You're right," she agrees, smoothing down her eyebrows. "I look good." Then she adjusts her attention to my face and slowly lets her eyes travel down my attire. "Same can't be said for you, though." She turns to face me. "Girl, what happened to you?"

"What are you talking about?" I yank the mirror from her grasp and grimace at the sight. "Oh Jeez." I hurry to wipe the smudge of mascara off my left cheek, hearing Justine snicker as I fix my face. Knowing that I've been walking around like this for half the day has a reluctant smile tickling my lips. "Thanks," I groan.

"Where were you at break?" Justine asks, "Rosa and I waited for you by the vending machines."

"Bathroom," I tell her, not even a little embarrassed to admit that the Thai rice porridge that my mom fixed for breakfast was wreaking havoc on my bowels.

"Ah," she mutters, understanding dawning on her face.

"Did you already eat lunch?" I ask, taking in the fact that Justine doesn't have a plate of food in her lap like I do. We'd made a deal with the cafeteria cooks that as long as we always return our dishes to the kitchen right after lunch, then we can continue eating in the gym.

"Yeah," she mutters, rubbing her smooth head with the tips of her fingers. "I had a test that I didn't finish in time, so Mr. Lewis agreed to let me eat my lunch in class while I finished."

I nod in understanding before shoving another bite of pasta into my mouth.

"I heard a rumor," she suddenly says, instantly gaining my full attention.

I pause in my attempts to slurp a spaghetti noodle into my mouth and stare at her, waiting for her to continue. Knowing Justine, this is gonna be good. She's always getting insight into the juiciest gossip. I try to stay out of the gossip circles, but you can't blame a girl for being curious.

"Someone likes you." She sings the words rather than just speaks them and the moment the words leave her lips, my thoughts dance to the blonde boy that'd been spending all of his time in my mind these days.

"Who?" I hurry to ask after swallowing my bite, a silly surge of hope swelling behind my chest.

Sure, there's a side of me that understands how ridiculous this is. Mainly because I don't talk to anyone outside of Justine and Rosa. But, there's another side of me that's giddy with the idea of this even being remotely true.

"Well," Justine scoots closer to the edge of her seat and turns to face me like she's preparing to tell me the dirtiest, darkest secret, and then simply says, "I'm not sure."

I frown.

"I just heard a couple girls talking about you and some guy that likes you," she explains. "I never heard a name though."

I groan with an eye roll. "How am I supposed to handle this information?" I grumble. "At least if I knew who it was, I wouldn't have to suspect every guy in our entire school. Now I'm just gonna be extra awkward around everyone."

"That's true," Justine agrees. "Hmm... maybe I shouldn't have told you."

"Exactly—"

"But then again," she cuts in, "it's always kinda fun to watch you fumble around a conversation with a guy."

"I don't always fumble."

"That's also true." She nods. "You've never had any trouble talking to Felix Ross."

"That's 'cause he's a freshman," I explain, exasperated. "It's like talking to a child." I shift my gaze to the boy that's been on my mind for years. "Him on the other hand," I say, tilting my chin in Jamie's direction. Justine turns her head to follow my gaze. "He's not a child."

"Ooooh." Justine's having a hard time hiding her playful grin, and I almost regret bringing him into conversation...yet again.

"Hey."

Justine and I both jump at the interruption and turn to find Rosa occupying the bleacher right behind us. I swear this girl's a ninja. She's the quietest out of the three of us. Spotting her in the busy hallways of our high school is like looking for a contact lens in a swimming pool. She's practically translucent; she's that good at being invisible. Her goal in life is to blend in. I believe it stems from her low self-esteem and ability to blush for no reason at all. Being called upon by a teacher in class is her absolute worst nightmare. I witnessed it once in Jr. High—it wasn't pretty. 

"Hey." We both respond.

"Haven't seen you all morning," I say, watching as she slides a sandwich from her Superman lunchbox.

"Good." She doesn't even look up when she says this.

Justine and I share an amused look before I dig back into my food.

"Lynn loves Jamie Gallagher," Justine blurts.

"What?" It's Rosa and I responding in unison this time.

"Who?" Rosa inquires further.

Rosa's playing dumb. There's no way she doesn't know who Jamie is. One, because he's rather popular for his daredevil ways in this school, and two, I talk about him all the time. Like, I'm freakin' annoying about it, I'm sure.

"Pretty boy over there." Justine doesn't bother hiding her actions as she points to the five friends huddled on the basketball courts laughing.

"Stop," I laugh, lunging forward to smack her hand out of the air. "You don't have to make it so obvious." I glance up subtly and breathe out a relieved sigh to find that he's not looking our way.

"You love him?" Rosa asks, skeptical.

"No," I assure her. "Of course not," I smirk, a teasing tone in my voice. "I just think he screams hunkalicious."

I'm pretty sure I see Rosa blush for me at my use of such a stupid description. I laugh at her reaction before taking another bite of my spaghetti.

"Weren't you two like besties at one point?" she asks, shoving her sandwich into her mouth and eyeing me with bulging cheeks.

"Yep," I confirm. "But, I think he hates me for leaving. I literally haven't said more than an awkward 'hi' since I've been back."

"Wait," Justine jumps in. "You honestly haven't talked to him for almost a year?" She shakes her head in disappointment. "Where's the Lynn I know? You're no coward. Why don't you just walk up to him and apologize and make things right?"

I just shrug, not sure why I've been so hesitant when that's not typically my nature. Justine just makes it sound so simple, and maybe it could be. Maybe Jamie's just waiting for me to make the first move. The idea sparks a new sense of courage, awakening a part of myself that I've missed.

Rosa changes the topic after that, asking Justine a question about one of the classes they share. I take this moment to glance over at Jamie again. He's laughing, his face shining with a joy that most high schooler's don't seem to possess until after three o'clock each Friday.

I honestly believe that's what I'm attracted to—his joy. He's got the typical messy hair and dazzling eyes, but I don't recall finding him attractive the first time I ever saw him—though, we were children at the time, so my 'beautiful people' radar wasn't working quite right back then. But, it seems that as the year has crawled by, my attraction for him has slowly bloomed into a near full-blown obsession. It's not something I'm proud of, but I can't help myself.

I'm crushing. Hard!

I don't realize that I'm blatantly staring until his eyes shift slightly and he finds my own. In most situations, I'd turn into a flustered mess, but there's something about his expression that keeps me watching. It's like he's silently inviting me to see the humor in the moment and to embrace the good in life. Or maybe it's because I get a sense that he's not actually 'seeing' me even though he's looking in my direction.

And then he glances away, his attention snagged by the brunette beauty across from him. As the bell rings, signaling Justine and Rosa to their own separate classes, I realize two things:

One: he doesn't give an owl's hoot about me.

Two: that needs to change.

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Man, I've got such great plans for this story, but I just don't know how I feel about this chapter. I've already rewritten it like five times... but I still worry it's boring. :/ :/ :/   Tell me your thoughts. I'd love to know what you loved or didn't love about it. Thanks!! 

Also, don't be scared to point out mistakes. This is a first draft, so it's bound to suck a little. Having your feedback will do wonders in helping me improve the story. <3

Prepare to meet Jamie in the next chapter!  :D