We smile at each other as she takes her usual seat two rows in front of mine.

Everything about her is deliberate, from her even, golden tan to the honey-blonde highlights in her perfectly tossled curly hair.

*Someone could write a song about a girl like her.

She's well dressed, but a sporty backpack and climbing shoes balance the otherwise preppy image.

Before class, she works on her assignment, casually flipping through the text book and jotting down notes on loose-leaf paper. Outside of class, she never thinks about her work.

With her beautifully manicured and jeweled hands she picks up a Snapple bottle and slowly eats salt and vinegar potato chips.

She know why the curly haired boy moves closer to her seat every class. She knows we're watching.