Uncertain.

I examine the back of his neck, the way his hairline makes a "v". I watch his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing; I try breathing with him.

He turns around. His gaze holds mine for only an instant, but it's enough time to be intoxicating.

I look up at the ceiling. There's a tile with a browning corner. I try to think of why it's become that way. 

As my eyes return to my desk, I see the side of his face, ever so briefly. I think he's smiling, but I can't be sure. I'm too afraid to look again.

For the rest of the hour, I keep my head turned away from him. My eyes shift strictly from my desk to the professor for the duration of class.

I glance at my watch. It's time to go. I move to pack up my bag, but suddenly there is a figure in my peripheral. I follow the familiar blue shoes up his jean-covered legs, then to the buttons on his plaid shirt, eventually leading to his face.  He looks like he's about to smile, but I don't give him the chance. I avert my glance down to my books again, and finish packing up my backpack.

The crowd of people flows out the door, and sweeps him away with them. He's gone.

Once I throw my backpack onto my shoulder and stand up, the room is mostly empty. 

I open the door to a nearly vacated hallway, and sigh.

On to my next class...