When I sneak a glance at him, he’s staring at me in a way that is no longer clinically detached like it once was. In fact, it’s a decidedly human look. This is what longing looks like, I realize. My alarm wars with this horrifying giddiness. It’s the same emotion I felt when I heard a rumor that Tom Becker, my high school crush, wanted to ask me out. Turned out, he wanted to ask out Sarah (such is life—it just loves to kick you in the happy sacs), but for a blissful twenty-four hours, I felt like baby angels were fluttering around in my stomach.
