Ficly

Danny Gilmore

Just the other day,
He sat in front of me
Again.
In science, this time –
I felt a familiar pulsing
In my brain,
As I looked up at him,
At his hair,
At his back.
He sat lazily in his chair,
Clearly avoiding my glare.
I had to change tact.

Just that day,
As he got up to leave,
I dropped my pencil
On the floor.
How cliche,
What a bore.
I saw him gaze down at it,
Then up at me.
He overstepped the pencil,
How could that be?
His friend picked it up.
Mickey, he’s called.
I should’ve thanked him,
I guess, but I couldn’t help it,
I stalled.

My eyes welled with tears -
Well, what could I do?
I ran for the exit,
Tripping right over his shoe.
I fell on the floor,
Just feet from the door.
Laughter rang out,
The whole class in tears,
Too,
Except from laughing too hard
At my glasses,
Askew.

I looked up,
My face hotter than ever before.
For the first time,
I caught his eye,
But all I wanted to do
Was to stare at the floor.
His mouth was stretched out,
Into a grin,
A roar.

That was how I fell,
For Danny Gilmore.

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