A boy and I. A boy I fancied. Sitting on a train across from one another. Travelling towards London. New trainers. My legs gently moving within his peripheral. My feet clawing for attention. Shy. Anxious. A boy I fancied. New trainers I just thought were so cool. I wanted him to think I was cool. If I was cool, I might have a chance. He may fancy me back. Too anxious to realise it was mutual as it had started with my throwing myself at his feet. How mutual, though. I’m weird. I’m awkward. The opposite of cool.

How can I make him pay attention? How can I make him pay attention without asking him to pay attention.

Some coy, passive babble. Overt hints. “Are these new?” …Well, now I feel stupid… “Why didn’t you just say that?”

Why didn’t I just say that?

Now I take up just a little more space each time. Still weird. Still awkward.

Small moments. Supernova.