9:00 a.m.: I wake up and I feel it — today’s the day. I know Pete will notice me today.
9:09 a.m.: I shower and get dressed. I should wear something blue. It’s his favorite color.
9:16 a.m.: My Wednesday morning ritual is interrupted by a phone call from my therapist. I ignore it.
9:40 a.m.: Pete leaves his room every week at this time; I wait outside hoping he’ll see me.
9:41 a.m.: Dammit, he’s with a friend. Bitch! Why does she get to talk to him? I bet she doesn’t even know his middle name or high school locker combination. Does she love him better than I can?
10:35 a.m.: Pete’s in class. I miss Pete.
10:51 a.m.: Pete leaves class. That’s my cue. I’m right over here, why can’t you see me?
10:59 a.m.: Pete stops in Houston for some sushi. Oh, if only I could be that California roll! To touch those lips would be so heavenly.
11:06 a.m.: I watch as he makes his way back to his room. I’m giving it my all, but I’m not the girl, you’re taking home.
12:37 p.m.: Pete still has not emerged.
12:50 p.m.: Finally. I follow Pete to his philosophy class in Meyerson. This is my moment.
1:49 p.m.: Pete begins walking back to Rodin. I wave my arms to get him to see me.
1:52 p.m.: He glances in my direction! It might have been the squirrel fight going on behind me, but I bet it was for me.
1:59 p.m.: He enters the building. I watch as the light goes on in his window.
3:03 p.m.: I’ll wait here. He could still come out.
6:15 p.m.: It starts to rain. It’s okay; my love for Pete will keep me warm.
11:43 p.m.: I watch the light in his window go out. I reluctantly walk home. Maybe next week he’ll notice me. I keep dancing on my own.
