Your eyes search for mine in a group of five. Seeing if I laugh, seeing if I'm centered on your voice over the roar of a dozen.

But your attention is always wavering to the nearest girl.

And it contrasts the moments I hyper focus on:
Like when you joined me on the living room floor during a party when the couch was vacant and there were so many other seats.
The way your body faced mine.
The playful foot pushes and shoulder touches.
Siting next to me on the couch I couldn't think of anything more than your arm touching mine.
When you jumped off the couch too quickly and rocked us back to far, always concerned if I was alright.

You called my name and wagged your finger at me.
I followed excited as a puppy promised a walk.

Then I see you wiggle your finger at another girl minutes later.

Your facial expression mirrored that of a scolded child as I exited the door.