She's disgusted with me. I know that much. I'm no fucking scientist, sociologist, i didn't even get a good enough grade to attend the academy (was not my choice, of course, it was mums), But i can tell she is all but amused with me.

Of course, how would i know? She's so hot, and I never even spoke to her (for that reason).

It was my fault. Stupid stupid me. Just stupid. I'm not funny enough. I'm not the charmer boy that girls look up to in awe and froth at the mouth at (was that funny? Perhaps there is still hope yet, if indeed you laughed and you are a woman).

I'm not Chet Jones, or C.J. Teanley, i'm just me, the plain, uncolored, unloved, unfulfilled, loveless, Quentin Wheen.

And what the fuck sort of name is that anyway? I suppose my ancestors should of been shot for thinking up a name as stupid as that.. wheen. It sounds like the nose a dying fetus fart would of sounded like. Then again, totally me.

Killer day yesterday, i almost cried tears of joy. I got to sit next to her in Math class (a bore of a lifetime.. if it was without you, Annalisa).

Dr ('Docter', fucking joke, more like f├╝hrer ) Jenesen (PhD .. Math) put us together, which was a plus point for him in my book. A rarity really, to see his good side.

All i remember about the math project was that it had way too many letters to be considered 'Mathematical', whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean, you might as well be reading Dostoyevsky, but the probelmo lied in the fact that, you weren't, you were looking at the six hundredth question of the six hundredth page of your Textbook. Fucking joke.

But Annalisa was always ahead of me. Of course, she never really cared about me.

It was all Pencils and books and sideway glances (on my part) until, i kid you not reader, she actually said,

'... Hey.. arnt you that guy always hanging out in the Library?'

So i managed to hurl,

'....eh...yea. I guess. Yes.. That's me, the one an' only. Erm, Quent Wheen'

'Quent? My sister has a PUPPY named Quent!' (Undecipherable... sarcasm? Perhaps?'... Oh god no)

'oeeeyeareally?? That's wicked. Erm, yea i'm a bit of a dawg myself... (Pause..then a dreadfull realization had dawned upon me) Wait no! (Face palm, bad fucking joke, Seriously, bad bad fucking move Quent).. i mean, hehe, i didn't't mean that, honest to Buddha, 'im not THAT lame, that was ju- '

(And Can YOU BELIVE it. She laughed. Not laughed as in Ha fucking ha, or hehyeeea okaaay. I mean, she giggled a bit, as if i was even remotely funny (which i wasn't))

(Giggle) 'Ha! You're Funny! That was so cute! are you like this all the time?!'

( ---------- Me) 'Ahhh! Yea, totally Ann, i mean, uh, Ann... can i call you ann?'

(^_^ -------- Darling Annalisa) '(laugh), sure Quent. But i like Annie...'

'Oh! Yea, ummum, Sure!'

Then silence. But a comfortable, cozy silence. A couple of scribbling's here and there. OUR sideway glances, where she complemented me with that Holy angel smile of hers.

But inside i was kneeling, and shouting 'Annie! Yes! Whatever you want Annie! You want Annie! Il call you ANNIE! Babe! I'l call you HOOCHIEBABA! If you so wished!!'