I sit in the seat across from him on the bus,
His best friends surrounding him.
His hair falls in his face and he oh so casually
sweeps it away, with a flick of his head
He laughs at some lame joke that his friend says,
so I laugh too and pretend its funny.
He looks at me so I stop, but it is a
completely different look.
Althrough out the ride, I catch him looking.
I blush and look down, if I see him watching.
I look at the floor instead,
at the dirt, the shoes, the bus.
He wears Pumas, and is adorable.
Our knees touch, and he doesn't hurry,
to move his away, so I lean in closer
and the heat rushes to my face
We are wearing the same shirt,
navy and white stripes.
The difference, mine is made for girls,
His is for boys, yet we have the same shirt.
I flirt with him, not sure if he does back,
so I wonder if he even likes me,
even though it seems he does.
I think he does, but I have been wrong before.
He has a six pack, and talks,
about his parents divorce,
working out at his dad's house,
the summer.
He wears,
Express,
Aeropostale,
Hollister
I wonder about his favorite things,
brand,
color,
type of girl.
I am dying to ask him out,
but I think it should be the guy
instead of the girl,
to make the first move.
Even though I have been told,
not to wait, to do it,
I don't want to be embarrassed
if he says no.
My friends say,
I obsess to much,
about him,
but they don't understand.
He is Prince charming.
Perfect in every way.
Gorgeous, funny, nice,
Someone I can talk to
I adore him,
If only he felt,
the same way,
about me.
The same every day.
The looks, the shoes,
the glances, the shirts,
the bus ride home.
Then, his best friend,
asks me out.
