She Wore Blue Nail Polish

She wore blue nail polish.
I’d always seen her from a distance, laughing and talking with her friends. I never had the courage to approach her. She was popular, and I was not. She always had her hair curled perfectly and on-trend outfits. But she always wore the same shade of blue nail polish, no matter what.
I remember I often stared at her longingly in the cafeteria as I ate lunch alone, watching her with her gaggle of friends. I wanted to join her. But I didn’t.
I sometimes listened to her whispered conversations with her friend in Math class. They often spoke of movies they’d seen, makeup, and music. She would absent-mindedly tap her blue-polished nails on the desk as she talked.
Occasionally, she would toss her hair over her shoulder and glance at the clock at the back of the room. Sometimes she caught my eye and we made eye contact for a split second before she turned away. Those times were good.
She was very pretty, as most popular girls are. But that wasn’t the only reason I liked her. She seemed kind. Too kind, perhaps. Some of her friends didn’t deserve it.
One afternoon, as I entered the cafeteria, I saw that her chair was noticeably absent. Her friends spoke in hushed voices.
I told myself there was no need to be concerned. I had heard one of her friends say something with the workd “sick” in it. A sick day?
I went to my table and sat alone. It felt sort of strange not looking at her the whole lunch period. I missed her. Don’t be silly, I told myself. You’ll see her again soon.
As I walked home later that day, I felt strange. Why was this so concerning to me? Plenty of people got sick and couldn’t come to school. Was it simply because I cared for this girl more than I cared for others?
I took a back way home, through the park that sat in the middle of town and separated my house from the school. I sometimes saw her come this way with her friends after school, too. Today I saw no one.
When I got home, neither of my parents had gotten off work yet. I was relieved. Their constant self-absorption and yelling could get exhausting. Maybe that’s why I liked to look at her so much. She was so kind, so calm.
I went to my room and opened my closet. Now, I felt at peace. Calm. All my worries from lunch slipped away. Who would know? We’d never even spoken, let alone seen together.
I touched her hand gently. Lovingly.
She wore blue nail polish.
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