Who Else Might I Have Been?

A very short story.

Who else might I have been?

She asked this question again, as she stared out the rain-coated windows. Who am I, what was I, and who else might I have been? Droplets meandered down the chilly glass pane, matching the reflected path of tears on her own face.

She had worked so hard, wanting so badly for him to notice her. She had pressed her uniform neatly that day, each crease aligning perfectly with the next. Her sisters and she and had taken great pains to get her hair just right, and most of the morning was spent curling each gentle loop so the cascades would frame her angelic face. Her bow matched the blue of her eyes, or so he sister insisted. She arrived early to school, performing last minute primping as the other students gathered.

It was just one day... one very long 24 hour period... from the last time she had seen him. He had dropped his book bag, and she, on impulse, had reached down and retrieved it from the floor for him. "Thanks," he said, and then had added "See you at the movies." Oh, he knew she existed! He was looking forward to seeing her! How much love could one twelve year old heart hold? And she would see him again today, and ask him what time they should meet.

But the doors opened, and he sauntered down the hall, and she found herself tripping over her own tongue. "Hello," she said shyly, so very aware of how deep brown his eyes were. "Um, what time?"

He regarded her, taking in her silly ringlets and cute little bow. "Who are you, anyway?"

Hopes and young heart dashed, she raced from the hallway, running away from him and her own embarrassment.

And so she sat, on the ledge of the window in the girl's bathroom, repeating his question again and again in her head. "Who else might I have been?" she said softly, "to get you to notice me?"