When you walked into that classroom on the first Monday morning of September, you saw him. He was sat next to one of the windows, his chin leaning on his hand with his elbow planted firmly on the table and the sunlight caught his hair and took your breath away.

Everyone else is looking your way. You have just walked in late to your first lesson of 6th form; for everyone else this was enough to make you interesting. To him, nothing is more enthralling than watching the gulls outside flock around an abandonned pasta pot.

When the teacher tells you off for being late and requests that you find a seat, your eyes scan the room. You see only two empty chairs. One of them sits next to the popular kids at the back of the class; the other has been pulled out slightly as if it were expecting you to arrive and sit in it. It is situated next to his.

You take a breath and walk over. When your shadow falls across his desk, he finally notices you. He turns his head and his eyes make you gasp. Their brown colour has been intensified by the bright sunlight and it feels like they are staring right into your soul. You are scared at what he might find there, and draw your eyes away, focusing instead on sitting on the chair without your knees buckling and replying to his quick greeting in a voice that doesn't sound as if you've been sucking helium. You fail both tasks and sit a bit too harshly on the chair, causing it to rock forwards a bit as your voice squeaks a hasty "hi!"

The teacher projects your work on the board. You concentrate on keeping your breathing steady and not losing your grip on your pen. Thoroughly embarrassed at the fool you've already made of yourself, you drop your pen on your open book and wipe your sweaty hands unceremoniously on your skirt. You continue to write notes, but are soon waiting for more notes and start to doodle in the top lefthand corner of your exercise book. When hot breath approaches your ear, you realise that you've been drawing various hearts and your cheeks turn a deep shade of pink.

Suddenly, you pause. You thought you heard something. No, surely not! You must have misheard. You slowly turn your head to the left to look at the boy properly, eyes on a similar level. A puzzled look mounts your face. "Pardon?"

"I said, you look beautiful today. And we need to talk at break."