She is abidingly beautiful. Her charm pierces through my heart as she glides through the room in her red gown, a glass of sangria in her hand. She wets her red lips every now and then with the red wine, they glow crimson in the backdrop of the prom’s party lights. She goes off in a corner and unties her hair, her kohl eyes transfixed on me. They seem deeper than the Mariana Trench, but it seems deep-sea diving is an art, not accomplishable by an awkward geek, as it appears she was just blankly staring outside the window. I imagine a lot, don’t I?

She is surrounded by guys and they woo her with their cockiness, well-built physique, suave disposition, and give their best. That’s what happens in a college where the gender ratio deviates far from unity. The nerd inside me needs to go away if I want to impress her tonight. It is way too much work you see – ironing my suit, grooming my facial hair, brushing my hair to make it look dapper and sexier, filing my nails, so many things… I forgot the most important ingredient, something that doesn’t come overnight, and that’s confidence. Whatever it be, it seems I’ve put in way too much effort and she is effortless. My much-cherished shyness feels like a curse now.

If only I had the guts to approach her and greet her. Tell her how she is covered with poetry which only I can read, ciphers only I can understand, how I know about the hidden folk music fanatic inside her. I saw her at the concert the other day, dressed down and unrecognizable. I am sure she saw me too but conveniently ignored me. At the old library, where she was in the literature section, sitting bespectacled and intently reading romantic poems. I saw her, she sat there all alone, like an island in an open ocean. I did notice her stealing glances of the novel I was reading – ‘Looking for Alaska’, and wanting to talk to me. It would be a social debacle for her to converse with a guy like me. I just hope she sees through my attempt tonight and approaches me. Hope makes the world go round, doesn’t it?

I go outside to get some fresh air, the room is filled with testosterone and oxytocin. I hate these hormones, they make my simple life so complex, they are responsible for making me infatuated with this girl. The moon is as white as it could get and this song starts playing in my head, ‘Mumford and Sons – Home’, it seems it has been written for the two of us. I remember the contented smile on her face at the concert. Stripped of all the social tags and cliques, I could feel her spirit. Pure and serene, it was a touching moment. We live in a world where souls touch but bodies don’t, and bodies touch but souls don’t, rarely does it happen that one can see the union of the two. So, I just gaze at the moon like a forlorn lover and think of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Keats’ romantic poems, and lengthy mathematical equations – which make me realize why I can never be with her.

Our worlds are essentially different. Her hobbies, which are her guilty pleasures, are activities I openly and proudly participate in. My friends and my social circle are based on them. Her friends and social circle are based on her beauty and popularity. We can never assimilate into each other’s groups, that is psychologically improbable. She’d never be able to get away with not putting on her make-up and wearing chic clothes. I’d never be able to get away with not doing my science homework. Let me put it bluntly, we both are just afraid of admitting, afraid of the consequences of being together, it might tear apart our friendships. I tend to overanalyze things, don’t I? Maybe its all in my head. A wild fantasy of some sort. ‘The nerd and the cheerleader’, it looks good only as the title of an adult movie,the ones they show in a sex education class. I feel guilty now.

The faucet has been opened and my head is being flooded with all these random thoughts. I might drown in my speculations now, but I hear footsteps approaching me. It is her, it is definitely her. My heart beats fast and I turn in a split second. She rests her chin on my shoulder and whispers something in my ear. I don’t know what it was. My mind was in a flurry then, My cheeks flushed with deep red and I don’t remember what happened next. I just call her whisper the ‘Sweet Nothing’ because I will never know what she said and I assume it was something sweet -because I make her breakfast the next morning. That’s how I met her and my life changed forever.

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