Ticonderoga #2

She mustn’t muster a guess

to the feelings

he so feels.

He says “hey”

so weakly

even a butterfly could push him down.

When she looks at him

she sees someone she has seen before:

a boy

is all

he will ever be

in her eyes.

He moves in slightly closer

and pops out his chest

to look big.

He asks confidently

“How are you?”

expecting a unique response.

She says “fine”

the same she has said to him the other 80 times

and she

asks her own question

“Do you need something?”.

His dad prepared him for this one:

“May I please have a pencil?”

he asks with utmost respect.

She gives him a Ticonderoga #2,

a beacon of yellow wood

outlining the shape of her heart.

“Thanks Melonie,

these are my favorite”

he says like it matters.

What’s most funny here is,

deep down,

she knew that was his favorite kind of pencil.

If only he would ask her out on a date

or compliment her hair

or her makeup

or her dresses

or her anything!

One day,

she will build up her own confidence enough

to tell him

how she feels towards him.

Until then,

she’ll keep an extra Ticonderoga #2 in her bag.