I lean against the fence, trying to pay attention to the football game. Pulling my fedora down tightly over my blonde hair, I turn to see him standing next to me, shaking his head. He is a friend of the friend that dragged me to this social event I normally wouldn’t be caught dead at, but his emotions are displayed openly on his face.

“Do you…”

He doesn’t need to finish that sentence; I know exactly what he is trying to ask. In the year that I’ve lived here and known Jade, he has always been there in the background, her friend with obvious feelings for her. No amount of declarations of love, or acts of compassion could sway her to return his feelings; she loved one of the players on the field. Tonight, as I look the other way, she flirts with every hot-blooded male in the vicinity. Ever the amateur shrink, I understand that she does this out of a need to be accepted and a low self confidence. As much as I care about my friend though, seeing how her actions tear apart those that love her really ticks me off.

“I don’t think you’re stupid for loving her.”

He looks at me straight in my eyes as if only just seeing me, confusion evident.

“She doesn’t love me back, she never will.”

“Maybe,” I say, holding my breath, “Maybe she doesn’t love you because she isn’t the one meant to love you.” His surprised expression urges me to continue, regardless of the fact that I’m talking spontaneously.

“You love Jade, but maybe it is a brother/sister kind of love. As a teenager with raging hormones, it is easy to mistake that for romantic love.

Besides, any girl that doesn’t realize how great you are, is either stupid (obviously not in Jade’s case), or is just not your type.”

“Really?”

“Really what?”

“Do you really think I’m great?”

“Well, you’re a good student, funny, mildly attractive, and not a sexist jerk. Around here, that makes you a pretty good catch.”

He laughs, eyes twinkling in the moonlight. I blush as I realize that I meant everything I just said, except, he is more then mildly attractive.

Our team wins the game, but neither of us is pretending to pay attention anymore. Talking with someone that can keep up with me intellectually, and cute, and with similar points of views feels glorious. He just smiled at me, and heart beating rapidly, I briefly reconsider my ‘No-Dating-Till-College-Because-Teenage-Boys-Are-Idiots’ rule. Maybe, just maybe, I’m wrong.