When she clambered onto the bus she had a monthly pass this time, and I gulped. She was going to be a frequent rider. She flashed it to the driver and then walked with her head down to the same seat as before. She seemed absorbed in her thoughts, her brow furrowed. She took the same seat as before, across from me, but kept her gaze on the floor.

She wore jeans today, with brown cowgirl boots and a green turtleneck sweater, the same gray trench coat which I realized now was lined with fur and was probably very expensive. I was almost sure that my mother owned it.

I tried not to stare, but it was too hard. Besides, while her head was down this was my only chance to really see her. I took in her flat stomach, the curve of her hips, and the shine of her pink lip gloss. She was gorgeous. Just then the bus gave a lurch and her messenger bag fell from her lap. A few of its small contents poured from the opening and around my feet. Just my luck. I gasped and then bent down to retrieve the small items, MAC mascara, eye shadow, and gloss, plus cherry-apple Lip Smackers. I snickered to myself. I grabbed the bag too and I when I looked up she was right in front of me, staring.

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly, and I was sure that she didn’t remember me. I smiled in response, handing the bag over, and almost as if my smile were infectious one spread across her face. And though she tried to hide it, a mild blush spread across her cheeks. My smile widened, returning to my seat, gaze still glued to those gorgeous blue eyes. We just stayed that way for what seemed like a million milleniums until a cell phone went off. It took a moment for us to realize that it was her own. Britney Spears chanted the words “Gimme More” again and again and I chuckled to myself. A Britney fan. She answered it.

“Spencer here?” she said with an almost geeky cheeriness and I finally allowed my gaze to fall. I couldn’t let her know that I was that smitten with her. Besides, what would she want with a sophomore like me anyway. She chatted on for a few moments, replied with various monosyllabic answers: “No, Sure, Maybe, Okay, Sounds Good.” And then after a minute or two, she finished “love you too baby.” I snapped my gaze up at this, and immediately regretted it. I was like a wounded puppy. But to my delight, she was clasping the phone shut and looking back up at me. Except she only held my gaze for a moment and smiled a sweet, slow smile, then began toying around in her messenger bag. I grinned from ear to ear and hugged my arms about myself.

That was three years ago. Her name was Spencer and she smiled at me.