The days that followed were a blur for Jeremiah. Every time he saw Zoey, he felt that same magnetic pull, but he also felt that same fear of rejection. What if she didn't even notice him? What if she thought he was just another awkward kid with no chance?
At lunch, he would sit at the far end of the cafeteria, where he was safe from the social dynamics of the more popular kids. Zoey, however, always sat with her friends in the middle of the room, laughing and talking with a group of people who seemed so much more confident than him.
Jeremiah would glance over at her table every so often, his heart fluttering in his chest as she smiled, unaware of his gaze. The thought of speaking to her made him feel sick to his stomach. How could he, a shy 13-year-old boy who still didn't understand half the things he was feeling, talk to someone like her?
*What if I say something stupid? What if I mess it up?* he wondered. He couldn't bear the thought of her laughing at him, or worse, ignoring him altogether.
And yet, every day, the fear was met with the same longing. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to know what it would be like to hear her voice directed at him. To ask her about her favorite book, or what she liked to do on weekends. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it.