My eyes flick towards him, only to find he is paying me no attention… as usual. I desperately try to replicate his placid, vacant expression. “I don’t know this boy” I whisper to myself, “I don’t really care about him at all”. But I know this is a lie. I glance up as my friend joins me. She mumbles something I only half hear but assume was meant to be funny. I laugh, carelessly flicking my hair over one shoulder, while secretly watching for his reaction. He looks over at me, our eyes meet, but like normal he quickly looks away. “He’s way out of my league” I say to the girl next to me. She glances over at the boy. “He’s hot, older and hangs out with people way more mature than me.” I say, trying to beg myself from feeling anything for this inevitably unavailable boy. Yet I know I’ve failed when I glance at him again. I still notice his every move. I still feel a tiny pang when he laughs with those gorgeous other girls. And I still recognise the harsh impossibility of this ever happening. I give him one last look, sigh, and then walk away.