She watches him set his stuff down on the desk, then talk to the teacher and leave. Her heart sinks, and for the three minutes he is gone she is uncomfortable. She wriggles in her seat until the teacher gives her a dirty look.
But on hundred and eighty seconds later he has returned. She is singing inside. She feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.
She listens as he quietly works out his Spanish homework, delicately speaking every word. His voice brings her back to fourth grade; to the nerdy boy-next-door she fell in love with.
She wants- God, what does she want? She wants him to hold doors open for her. And call her every night to tell her he loves her. And share his snack with her; whatever he’s eating right now.

He walks into study hall carrying weekend homework he wants to get a head start on. He sets his things down and asks the teacher a can-I/correction-may-I question. As he is leaving the room he sees her look up at him. He silently promises he’ll be back.
He goes where he needs to go. He comes back. She sighs, relieved.
He opens his Spanish textbook and gets to work, quietly pronouncing every word. He is not thinking about Spanish. He is thinking about the curly haired blonde in front of him, fervently writing in one of her famous notebooks. He is thinking about her, about how she loves him and how he’s starting to realize he’s loved her all along.
What does he want? He wants… her. And her only. He wants to pull her chairs out for her. And hold her in his arms. And build up a love that will run deep in their veins as the world may come crashing down around them.
He whispers her name. She turns around and he offers her a snack- an Andy Capp’s Hot Fry.