Emilio had never, not once, looked your way. Maybe you actually were invisible. Maybe the thing you were trying so hard to do, keeping your head down, only ever speaking in class if it really couldn't be avoided, was working. It was probably a bit much to ask for Emilio to notice you through your invisibility magic (not a cloak). And through all the friends and admirers he was basically always surrounded by.

You didn't know how he pulled it off (well, for starters, he probably didn't spend days obsessing over someone he didn't know at all). Grades you could only dream of, an unmatched talent when it came to basically everything, but especially acting, a golden future (and hair). Somehow, he was also nice to everyone. You were usually too exhausted for making any kinds of conversation. He could do this crazy real Italian accent (maybe because he was, at least a quarter, Italian). And blush on command. And do a cartwheel on both sides.

There was only a tiny amount of people who didn't get at least a nod when he walked down the hallway to his next class. Like you. Which was probably because you always melted into the wall when he walked by. And stared at your books like they had just turned into eels (sometimes it even felt like it, but – luckily – you'd never dropped them before him).

The worst part about having a crush on Emilio was that he was everywhere. He was being interviewed for the school newspaper because he had gotten the main role in the school play (again), he was in the school play (which you didn't watch twice, no), and he shared your exact timetable. Which was especially fun in the drama lessons.

The worst part about it was that he really wasn't good for your health, in a medical way, because you'd probably had a few heart attacks by now.

The worst part was that it was so utterly, completely irrational to have a crush on Emilio. But it just didn't. Go. Away.