You put me into the cognitive-affective state, I wrote, characterised by intrusive and obsessive fantasising concerning reciprocity of amorant emotions by the object of the amorant. And I passed the piece of paper to Lightsinthesky.
I'd been dared to say "I love you" to him by... someone. I don't remember whom. Music Man? Man o' War? I doubt it was Einstein. In any case, I managed to complete the dare by doing so - as above. I just jazzed it up a bit.
Of course he was a little confused by what the hell I was going on about. I don't blame him, really. He was distracted, anyway, by the close presence of the girl he had a crush on. This was, of course, the girl I also had a crush on, but I'd like to think I was much less obvious about it. Every time she walked past, Lightsinthesky usually exclaimed something like "oh man, she is so FIT!", which gives you an idea of how lexically verbose he was in his teenage years.
I felt I owed him an explanation, so I wrote = "I love you" in big letters and pushed the paper back towards him. Once he'd understood what I was trying to do, he kind of understood. (I earned the 2p I'd been promised for the dare, anyway, and bought a penny sweet with it later in the week.) However, this did leave us with the conundrum of being in possession of a declaration of love on a piece of paper in the dining hall in the company of a girl we both had a crush on. She either hadn't seen or hadn't cared.
Lightsinthesky made his move. Theorising (probably correctly) that she wouldn't understand all the goobledegook that I'd come up with, he tore - quite neatly, truth be told - the I love you from the paper, and folded it up. Then, with a pointed look at me, he inclined his head towards her.
I wasn't sure how to react. Was I confused, amused, or scared? His intention was to pass it to her, and although he was passing it, it was clearly my handwriting. She was looking the other way as he started sliding it towards her lunch tray; she also didn't notice anything as she stood up, waved a goodbye to us, walked off and dumped the entire contents of her tray - an empty juice carton, a sandwich wrapper, some uneaten vegetables and my I love you - into the bin.
Lightsinthesky was incensed. His amazing plan, and one chance to say anything to her, was a failure. I did, trying to be rational about it all, explain that maybe he should try talking to her, rather than just staring as she walked past and being pleased when she sat next to us at lunch. But that all fell on deaf ears... for he had become distracted again by a large plate of chips.
Something else we were both attracted to.