She sits across the room in one of those ugly, brown plastic chairs. So little effort has been made to disguise the hall it’s embarrassing. He swallows. Taking a gulp of lukewarm squash, he feels her gaze burning into him. He was too shy to ask anyone tonight, and so stands alone in the streamer-laden hall, watching her; her soft brown hair neatly tucked behind her delicate shoulders. She sits alone, yet he cannot bring himself to ask. She wishes he’d talk to her, just once, as he watches him draw himself back into the crowd of couples entwined in ignorant bliss.