Walking down the halls of a high school is more like an unnecessarily complex dance than anything else. The choreography consists of various moves: sidestepping, ducking, bobbing, weaving, pulling back, charging forward. Eventually it becomes second nature to you. And that's when you begin to notice the things that are going on around you. How the group of girls leaning against that bank of lockers glares at you as you walk past. How those guys by the water fountain stare at you admiringly, their eyes roving over your body. And how that one boy, the one waiting in the doorway of his next class, gives you a look so heartbreaking you just want to reach out and give him a hug. But you can't. Because it would be social suicide.

Even if you wish you could.

Even if he was your best friend.

Even if you are in love with him.