• I was sitting in science class with tears streaming down my face and snot bubbling out of my nose. My head was wedged into my book so no one could see my sorrow.
    I've always been embarrassed of my emotional issues. I cry at anything remotely sad and worry about every little thing. This time I was sad because winter break was over and I missed my mom. Where's your mom? you may be asking yourself. Well, she's at work, as usual. Nothing different or out of the ordinary. I just keep feeling overwhelmed. Like something will happen to her. I feel like if I'm not with her, who knows what's happened to her? I won't know until I can rush home from school on my bike and call her. For now, I just have to wonder where she is, what she's doing, if she's okay or not.
    To make matters worse, he's not here today. I have no eye candy for the day or any manly-smelling smells.
    What's happened to him? I wonder. For a moment I've forgotten about my mother's safety. I missed him now. I was head over heels in love with him. The only problem: he didn't even like me. Maybe his mom killed him. I thought. Mom. Oh, I hope my mom is okay. And there I was. Right back where I started.
    I was so overwhelmed with emotions. Anxious, depressed, angry. Petting fluffy puppies. Eating a gigantic chocolate chip cookie. Petting fluffy puppies while eating a chocolate chip cookie. No matter how many good thoughts I stuck in my head, the anxiety still wouldn't go away.
    I calculated how many hours were left of school in my head. Five hours and fifty minutes. There were five minutes left of this class period. Five more minutes, five more minutes, five more minutes. Then the bell. I darted out of that classroom so fast that nobody even noticed I left. I exchanged my science book and binder for my English binder. I checked myself in my locker mirror to examine the damage. My eyes were shiny and it looked like I had pink eye liner on. I took a quick stop in the restroom to splash some water on my face and calm down a bit.
    "It's okay, it's okay," I said to myself aloud. "Everything is going to be okay." I finished saying this just as one of my classmates walked into the bathroom.
    "Who are you talking to?" she asked.
    "Myself," I replied.
    "Oh, okay," she said as if she knows I always talk to myself. I thought I was pretty good about hiding it usually.
    Anyway, on to English. I sat at my desk and greeted the teacher.
    "Are you okay?" she asked.
    Is it that noticeable? "Yeah. Just post-holiday blues," I told her.
    "Oh, well I hope you feel better," she replied.
    "Thanks."
    English went by so slowly. I just stared at the teacher's mouth the whole time, studying her teeth. They were mostly straight except one that came out a little.
    By the time class was halfway over and my face and handkerchief were soaking wet, the door opened. I anticipated who it was, hoping it wasn't the office secretary delivering the bad news that my mother was in a fatal car accident. No, it was something a million times better. It was him. My stomach filled with butterflies, and my tears dried up.
    He sat down in front of me and I smiled my first smile of the day. Suddenly, my worries were gone. All that was left in my brain were thoughts of him. His warm smile, his chocolate brown eyes, his gigantic head covered with a beautiful black mane that reached the bottom of his skull. I stared at the back of his head for the remainder of class. It was the most beautiful head I had ever seen. Like a handcrafted statue.
    Near the end of class he turned around and looked me in the eyes.
    "What's the science homework?" he asked in that smooth voice of his.
    "Read section two of chapter three and do the assessment," I told him.
    "Thanks." He smiled and turned back around. My heart was pounding as fast as a racehorse on acid. I just loved his voice. Sweet and smooth like honey. I craved to hear him speak. The bell rang and leaving class, he walked in front of me to get to the door. That familiar smell of Axe filled my nostrils. I usually didn't like it very much, but when he wore it, it smelled incredible. Like a man. A manly man who wore Axe. Orgasmic, is what it was.
    I was happy the rest of the day. When I got home I called my mom and she was fine. I told her all about the cure to my tears.