Your name is written all over my notebook so I am hesitant to take it out of my bag to read you what it’s in it. I’m hoping you get distracted by something so I’m able to pull it out and flip the cover over quickly. But every time you turn your head, I turn mine too either because I heard what you heard or I’m curious as to what earned your attention. Your name is written mostly within in doodles, mostly your initials, so realistically you probably wouldn’t even notice.

I don’t think it would creep you out, it certainly wouldn’t flatter you, you may just think it’s odd but I think you know me well enough to know it came out of… almost a cute quirkiness and not some salivating obsession. Though I’m not certain, I mean there has been times I’ve told girls they look beautiful and they took it as an attempt of seduction. S***, now I think about how someone’s intentions can really be impossible to decipher. Not only limited to intentions, just someone’s feeling are unable to be felt by another. What would happen if I took out my notebook and you saw you name spelt out in a variety of ways. The letters have a face and feet, your initials next to mine within in a heart, a few cursive attempts, attempts at your last name even. It wouldn’t be weird if you thought it was weird.
I know it’s not weird because I know the context of my doodles. It was math class and I had just finished a test, and I had the feeling of a spring day. Though spring can obviously bring cold and wet weather, I think by saying the feeling of spring day one gets the picture of flowers coca-cola orange and pink and being barefoot, anyway I felt at ease and for once genuine. So I drew your name and… it really isn’t that weird people think about others I just happened to make my thought physical. Plus I know how clean my feelings are towards you. Perhaps I was writing your name because it allowed time to fantasize without losing focus of that fantasy part. But now that this isn’t fantasy and is really happening does the meaning change? Half the reason I was even able to get this time in the park with you is because you wanted someone more “creative” and “weird” than your usual acquaintances. So maybe me being bad at being cool and bad at social norms would actually benefit me.
“Do you I have pen, I want to give you a tattoo of my name?” and we laugh and I pull a pen out from my pocket. You focus on my forearm and remind me that you wanted to read some of my poetry and I figure it really isn’t that serious. Perhaps she’ll see it as I’m the goofball lover boy and she’s the popular girl, and she’ll feel it’s only right that I’m obsessed. “Please! Just let me see it” “fine…” I drag out. My arm still rests in her lap and she’s drawing and I reach into my bag and pull out the notebook right as she says “Done.” I look at my arm while handing her the book without flipping the cover over “Who’s J.D… who is Jenna?” Confused, and I notice what is written on my arm.