She was a studio art major. There is no way she would be into him, a business major with a math minor.

They say opposites attract, but they were too opposite.

She was a friend of a friend. They sort of knew each other. One of those awkward friendshippy type things.

He sometimes noticed little things. Like when she got bored she would scribble little stars on the cuffs of her jeans.

He lived for when she smiled, it was subtle, perfect. There was nothing like it. Any time he saw it, the rest of his day was automatically better.

When they hung out in the coffee shop in between classes, he noticed she would pull out one of those teen magazines and do the stupid little quizzes.

But there was no way she felt the same way

One day she walked into the coffee shop, her hair was cut into a jaw length bob and had indigo streaks in it, and he went weak in the knees. She looked bad ass.

“I lov--The streaks are really cool.” Had he almost said that, holy fuck.

And my god, she was a dorky dancer. It was adorable. She did not care what anybody thought of her dancing, all that mattered is that she was having fun.

But he couldn’t tell her. It was too weird. It would never work.

They were a million worlds apart.