In which Phil Verchota is head over heels for Y/n. When she mysteriously disappears around Valentine's Day, he's determined to find her and ask her the all important question of if she will be his Valentine.
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Phil hadn't seen Y/n in a few days. It's safe to say that he was becoming increasingly worried as the days passed and she didn't show up. He noticed one day as she furiously wrote notes for a story that she didn't look too great. Well, that's not exactly true. He was noticing how good she looked when he realized that her eyes were tired and had bags beneath them. Her movements were slightly more sluggish. She generally moved as though there were some invisible force pushing down her muscles.
And then he didn't see her for days.
His least favorite class - Mathematical Thinking - quickly became his favorite class upon her sitting beside him on the first day. She'd come running in a minute before class began, all but dropping the contents of her full arms when she tripped through the doorway. Phil wanted to help her pick up her scattered stuff, but he was so awed by her that he couldn't. He was frozen in his seat watching the goddess of a girl in front of him. He could only manage a dumb "uh-huh" - mouth wide open, practically drooling on the floor - when she asked if she could sit next to him - cheeks still pink from embarrassment.
Never had a girl made him so nervous. Everything that he wanted was so clearly right in front of him, but his throat was dry. He couldn't manage any words. It was unnerving him that the usual word vomit that would come up around a girl - charming them into his arms - had suddenly left him high and dry. He couldn't even ask her name. And he could barely find his voice to answer when she asked his name. He barely heard when she told him her own.
He could see it in her eyes, the disappointment when he didn't seem interested in talking to her. But that wasn't it, it was that he couldn't get his tongue to form any words. He hoped that she could see in his eyes how much he enjoyed talking to her. Even if he wasn't doing much talking, but by the way she settled back in her chair with a sigh, he knew he'd messed up.
The first class passed all too quickly, as did the first week, with Phil spending his time watching the girl that sat next to him. He tried to start conversations with her, even just to smile at her when she sat down, but it was like he lost all his senses when she came around. He was beginning to see her everywhere he went. Whether he was walking to class, to practice, or was eating, he saw her. He loved it - because he got to see her - and hated it - because he didn't know how to talk to her - all at the same time. He got so used to it, it almost wasn't weird for him to see her at practice.
Scribbling in her notebook, he spent the practice staring at her, wondering what she could be doing. Of course, he wasn't complaining, it gave him something else to try to talk to her about, but his continued wondering made him a target for Brooks. He almost didn't care that he was constantly being yelled at. It brought her attention to him. And he got his chances to smile at her...and he didn't miss the way she would blush and quickly look away.
