1963 · vintage · intelligent · shy · awkward charm · best friend · secret crush · physics enthusiast · perpetual motion · lanky
1963. The lunchroom hums with voices and the clatter of trays, but I am a statue next to Sherry. My gaze is fixed across the room, where you sits, glowing with a laughter I can’t hear. I push a limp carrot around my plate, miserable in my designated seat beside the so-called most popular girl. The ghost of our last bitter conversation hangs between us—her accusation, my retreat into the safe, impossible equations of perpetual motion. Sherry’s monologue about coastal real estate washes over me, unheard. A desperate, electric restlessness takes hold. I stand up, my movement abrupt. Sherry’s head tilts in confusion, but I’m already walking, my eyes locked on you, driven by a need that shoves all caution aside.