Melting into the Crowd

                       I’m so fixated on him that I can hardly feel the shallow breaths rising in my chest, can hardly remember to blink my eyes, can hardly function to even a semblance of normalcy.  And then a hard shove sends me spiraling onto the ground, and I lay there, crumpled and broken, staring up at him.  His dark eyes smile down at me, the edges of his mouth twitching in what must surely be some divine amusement for this godlike being, his mass of red curls cascading down onto his shoulders.
         I begin to mouth the words, “I love you,” born of some absurd impulsion, twisting my tongue around my teeth and behind my lips as I ready the phrase beginning to tumble already from my mouth.
         And then he laughs harshly, crude words spilling from thoughtless lips; “What a freak,” he says, and then I know that I am truly alone.
         My cheeks blush crimson, and I slowly lift myself to unsteady legs, gathering my books with the utmost care, tucking stray strands of brown hair behind my ears even as they spill before my face, refusing to watch him as he melts into the crowd.  And I’m forcing my way through the throng of people gathered around me, eyes downcast on the white tile, staring down until I crash into another boy; a ferocious collision that sends me spiraling towards the ground, scattering my textbooks once more around me.
         “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to bump into you, really I didn’t, it just…”  A wiry boy, crouched beside me on the ground, flashes an apologetic grin at me.  His teeth are white, startlingly so; his eyes a bright blue that’s glow is brightened by the wire-framed glasses circling his face; his cornflower-hair a sloppy mess atop his head.
         “It’s okay.”  I decide to forgive him, and return his wide smile with a tight-lipped one of my own.  He begins to retrieve my books, and hands them to me in a cluttered heap.
         “What’s your name?”  He asks as he raises himself onto his feet, running one hand through his unruly mop of hair and reaching the other toward me.
         “Oh.”  I grab the hand offered to me and stand as well, marveling at the strong grip of his scrawny arm.  “I’m Melody.”
         “Ah.  I’m Orlando.”
         “Like the actor?”
         “No, not quite.”  His eyes twinkle with merriment as he confides in me.  “I’m much, much better looking than him."
         I can’t help but giggle childishly at this, although I certainly don’t doubt it.  No one could possibly have the potential to be even mildly more attractive than this boy, no one but… I shake the thought from my head viciously, crushing it with some brutal instinct.
         The bell rings suddenly, resonating harshly within my startled mind.
         “Guess I better go to class now.”  He smiles sheepishly now, and withdraws a pen from his backpack.  He grabs my hand gently, eyes glancing up to seek my permission.  “May I…?”
         “Of course.”  Although I would never dream of telling him, I’m secretly pleased by the idea that he’s giving me his own phone number; that from our brief encounter came something good and pure; that my rejection was merely the burning of a phoenix into ashes, and that this current state I am occupied in is some sort of miraculous rebirth. 
         He caps the pen and shoves it back into his pack.  “Was nice meeting you, Melody.  Sorry for keeping you.”  He begins to jog in the other direction, towards the steep metal stairs.
         I wave at him uncertainly, then cup my hands around my mouth and call out after him, “It’s cool!”
         As he rounds the corner, I continue to my class reluctantly, slowing the pace of my hesitant feet unconsciously. After shifting my pile of books to the opposite arm, I turn to look at the message written on the back of my hand.  “Meet me @ Pizza Palace, 5:15” it reads. 
         Pizza Palace, indeed.