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.