But, admirer or not, that still didn't change the fact that, indeed, Josh Andrews was in my Biology class.

At first it did cross my mind that he may have stumbled into the wrong classroom but when he actually stayed for the whole of the first lesson and the teacher didn't make any unusual comments on his presence, I realised that this was really happening. Josh really was in my class.

Week in, week out, Josh would walk through the heavy, brown wooden door to our classroom. Each and every lesson he sat in his seat-right-side of the classroom, two from the front, next to the window- and casually scribble down the notes our teacher copied onto the whiteboard. And, every class, I sat and I gazed straight at him, failing to concentrate on diagrams and letting dictations just slip away.

"Why, for Christ sakes," Katie would whisper to me every lesson, pushing the notes I had failed to write down into my elbow, "do you just not talk to him after the lesson? Please.it would save us both a lot of agony" And, each time she did that, I playfully jabbed her in the arm with my Biro.

And, every now and again, I would see Josh turn around. For a couple of seconds, I would trick myself into thinking that he was looking in my direction. I would trick myself with the belief that my crush on Josh had actually been, by some divine twist of fate, reciprocated. But, every time that happened, I would all too quickly realise that Josh was just looking at something behind me, or something next to me or something above me.just about anything other than me.

Biology was becoming something of a routine. And, as much as I wanted to break free, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

The only plausible way to break the routine was to go and speak to Josh. But that was something that was not going to happen for a long time to come. Although it had now been established that biology was a possible common interest, it's not much of a conversation starter. Plus, there was the fact that deep down inside; there still remained a trace of that clumsy fourteen-year-old girl who had stumbled upon that particular art project by mistake. The truth was I felt a little star stuck by him. Every time I rehearsed and replayed any possible meeting in my head, it always had the same two elements- me with a dry mouth and Josh thinking I was really just a silly little girl. He was like my celebrity. Some might even go as far to say that he was like my God.

So it might now be easier to understand why, when he left that transparent folder on his science desk on a Friday morning, I didn't return it straight away. I remember that the bell had just rung. Everybody in our class had seemed to make the stereotypical secondary school student dash for the door and, as Katie and I sat near the very back of the room, we were the last to leave. And that's just how Katie got her hands on it.

"Look at what Josh left behind," she taunted me, dangling the folder between her right forefinger and thumb. "You best go return it," she continued with a sly little grin. And, with that, she threw the folder in my direction.

I tentatively ran my fingers across the edge. I couldn't believe I was holding HIS folder. If Josh really was my God, this was to be considered a sacred moment.

"Come on, Lisa!" Katie complained. "You have to return it to him now. He'll wonder where it is otherwise."

I stroked the see-through plastic. "I will," I told her, hesitantly. God, I hated the fact that the cards had played into her hand so sweetly. Surely, if anything, this should be considered my lucky moment." Eventually."

I looked up from the folder and over to Katie. She was shaking her head at me. "Whatever," she said. "I've got a paper to essay. I'm off to the library. Maybe I'll see you there?"

"Yeah, maybe" I told her, returning my attention to the folder. "Bye"

I heard Katie close the door behind her. It was just me, all alone in the room. With Josh's folder.