Look at me, just once, please. Every day I see you, chewing on the end of your pen, looking around the room clueless. I could complete you, but you have to notice me first. It doesn’t matter where I sit in proximity to you. You still pay more attention to your phone than the people around you. Your lips purse and you tap your pointer finger so gently on those full lips. See me? Please. I shouldn’t beg, I’m too proud for that, but you ought to know my life would welcome you so perfectly; stranger in my biology class.
Author’s Note: I’m kind of obsessed with 100-word stories lately. I think it’s fun to incorporate prompts from my life. When I went to Univ of MD (many years ago) there was this boy in my biology class I had a crush on. He had no idea, and I was always too introverted to say anything. His last name was Fine, which my girlfriends thought was hilarious.