I was attracted to Athirah the very first time I saw her. Although I was just 14 years old, my heart beat very fast each time I saw her, as though my youthful soul understood the meaning of love. I deliberately chose to be a school prefect so that I could see her regularly. I practised running around the field every day to qualify for the school athletics team she captained. As much as possible, I involved myself in activities that she joined so that I could spend more time with her. However, Athirah paid scant attention to me.

I still remember the first time she became aware of my existence. It was a Monday. I was late for school. Assembly had already started in the school hall when I ran quickly past the entrance. Red necktie clutched in hand. Untied shoelaces dangling. Hair tangled with a couple of damp strands stuck to my forehead. I was tucking in my shirt just outside the hall before entering, when Athirah suddenly appeared in front of me.

"You're late!" she chided. My face changed to a reddish hue that very second. Excited that I could see her. Embarrassed that I was untidy and disorganised. But unmistakably ashamed because I was caught red-handed by her for my wrongdoings; I was late for school, and my duty to raise the school flag had been reassigned to another prefect.

I apologised profusely with head down. Athirah still gave me that grouchy, irritated look. It was painfully obvious that she was not at all happy with me. I screamed at myself deep within. Why had I been so careless to miss the bus that morning? Why did I embarrass myself in front of Athirah? If she were not right in front of me now, I would surely bang my head against the wall. I was furious with myself.

"Don't let it happen again. Go to the toilets and tidy yourself up. You can't even button your shirt properly, how can you call yourself a prefect?" she said, reprimanding me in a sarcastic but firm voice. I looked down at the front of my shirt. The first button was in the second buttonhole, as were all the other buttons in the wrong holes. Blast! How did I muck it up like that? Blood rushed to my cheeks, further reddening my already ashamed, crimson face.

I quickly excused myself and hid in the toilets. I beat myself up inside for making a fool of myself in front of Athirah. However, I could still afford a smile. Ultimately, Athirah paid attention to me. This was a good beginning; embarrassing, but definitely a first memory for the two of us.

After Athirah completed school, we lost contact. We did not have a reason to keep in touch because we were not friends. I was just a junior under her. Nothing more than that. Still, I was persistent in following her life through other seniors. After I completed secondary school, I followed the same path as her. I chose to be a flight attendant. I was confident that in the future, our paths in life would cross again. And at that juncture, I would surely be ready to proffer my hand in a friendly handshake.