He doesn’t even know I exist, she thought. She was still seated at her third row desk, slowly packing her bags. Almost all the other students had filed out by now, and they were alone.
She watched him, his back towards the room as he erased notes and equations from the white board at the front of the room. So what that there was a good ten years between them? He didn’t have a girlfriend, did he?
He coughed, taking off his glasses to wipe them on his shirt. So close, but so far, she thought. She had dreamed about moments like these. A joke, a comment, anything to start the conversation, and that was all she would need.
But she just couldn’t find the words. It was always like this. She grabbed her books and walked to the door. One more glance, but he wasn’t paying attention. With a sigh she turned and walked away.
He stole a quick, peripheral glance in her direction as she left. He turned back to the whiteboard. She doesn’t even know I exist, he thought.