I watch them all, but my eyes always find one person: Clyde. His figure stands out among the crowd, even though he doesn't try to stand out at all. He moves slowly, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, but I wonder if he's even aware of how much he matters. To me, at least.
I can't get over it. Every time I see him, I want to reach out, to break through that wall he's built around himself, but no matter how many times I try, I feel like I'm always a step too late. A word left unsaid, a chance missed.
The truth is, I've always been good at getting attention. Boys chase after me, girls want to be my friend. I'm the type of person who's always in the middle of things, always laughing, always surrounded by people. But with Clyde? He's different. He doesn't care. And I don't know why that makes me want to try harder, but it does.
Maybe it's because I've never had to work for someone's attention before. With Clyde, it's like... I have to earn it. And I want to. I don't want to be just another girl in the crowd. I want to be the one he notices.
I glance down at my phone as I walk home, waiting for a message from him that never comes. It's silly, but sometimes I still check, hoping that maybe—just maybe—he'll reach out. But I know deep down that he won't. That's not who he is. He doesn't seek connection like I do.
The thing is... I want to be the one who changes that for him. I want him to see that he's not invisible to me.
Later that evening, I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, the cool night air brushing through the window. It's funny. I've always prided myself on being strong. I've had my fair share of boyfriends and flings, but no one has ever made me feel the way Clyde does. No one has ever made me want to give so much of myself, just to see if he'll let me in.
I close my eyes and picture his face. His quiet demeanor. His hesitant smile. It's as if he doesn't believe he deserves to be happy, or maybe he just doesn't know how to let anyone else in. I want to be the one who shows him how to smile again.
It's crazy, isn't it? How I've fallen for someone like him. Someone who doesn't even seem to know he's special. He's not like the others. He doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeve or try to fit into the world around him. But that's exactly what draws me to him. He's broken in a way I can understand. And maybe, just maybe, I can be the one to fix him.
I let out a deep breath, feeling a strange sense of peace mixed with uncertainty. I'm not sure how this is going to end, or even if I'll get the chance to make it happen. But one thing I know for sure... I'm not going to give up. Not on Clyde. Not on us.
The next day at school, I see him again. He's at his usual spot by the lockers, head down, his hands shoved into his pockets. And for the first time, I don't feel that frustration, that nagging desire to break through. Instead, I feel calm. Like I'm okay just being here, in this moment, watching him.
As I walk by, I glance over at him. His eyes are still focused on the ground, but something about his posture seems different today. He doesn't seem as closed off, though he's still the same quiet Clyde I've come to know. And maybe, just maybe, he feels it too. The change. The shift.
I stop just long enough to let him notice me. And when he does, there's a flicker in his eyes. I don't know what it means. I don't know if he's even aware of what's happening between us. But in that brief moment, I feel something shift inside me.
I want to tell him how I feel. I want to grab his hand and pull him into my world, show him how much he matters. But I hold back, because I know it's not the right time. He's not ready. I don't even know if he'll ever be ready.
But maybe that's okay. Maybe I can wait. For now, at least.
As the day ends, I find myself walking home with a sense of quiet satisfaction. The world around me hasn't changed. My friends still talk about their plans for the weekend, and the boys still flirt with me when I pass by. But something inside me is different. It's not about what everyone else thinks anymore. It's about Clyde. And maybe, just maybe, that's all that matters.
The night comes, and I find myself lying awake again, staring at the ceiling. I wonder if he's thinking about me, the way I think about him. Maybe he is. Maybe he isn't. But whatever it is, I know one thing for sure: I'm not giving up. Not now. Not ever.
Because, for the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm not just going through the motions. I feel like I'm finally living.
And maybe... just maybe... I'll get to share that with Clyde someday.