there’s that girl again
thought the boy
peering over black frame glasses at her
he ran a hand through his dark, unkempt hair
that probably smelled like coffee by now
he know she always looked over her shoulder at him before leaving
yesterday he’d caught her at it
he knew she knew he knew
—
there’s that boy again
thought the girl
peering over plum plastic specs at him
she ran a hand through her dark, unkempt hair
that probably smelled like hair by now
she hated that she always looked at him before leaving
yesterday he’d caught her at it
she knew he knew
