Your Julian is so funny.

You watch from across the room in the lifestyle section, between two shelves of, what you assume to be, advice and inspirational books. You grab the nearest one and hide your face behind it, hoping your Juls doesn’t see you. You inconspicuously peek over the pages and over to the blonde-haired gay at the far right table.

You study him. You know what to expect; after all, you’ve done your homework: Everything about your Julie is memorized and noted within your brain.

Is it weird that you’re paying more attention to him than in any one of your classes?

Nahhh.

So, concentrating, you see your usual homo at his usual spot. Doing his usual homo things. Which, as usual, is nothing. You kind of want to leave, because today he’s taking his sweet queer time.

But you wait, because you know he’ll do it.

He always does.

Just wait for it.

Wait… For… It…

Waitforit…

Waiiiiiiit. Fooooorrrr. Iiiiiiiitttt.

Wait-wait-wait. For-for-for. It-it-i—

Bingo.

The corners of his mouth turn upwards ever so slightly. A smile the world has never seen, nor would the world believe it. You, on the other hand, have been witnessing the impossible for the past few weeks or so. Only you see those smiles. You’re the only one he shows them to. You feel superior.

Well, more superior than usual, anyway.

So what if those smiles aren’t exactly directed at you? He’s still smiling in your presence, and that’s good enough, right? Well, sure, he doesn’t really know he’s in your presence, but still….

Uggggghhh.

You decide not to make sense of anything you do- too much brain activity causes bad moods; just look at your Julian. Instead, you head over to the children’s section and plop down onto one of those little plastic yellow chairs.

You ignore the little brats running around and begging their mom to read them a stupid picture book about some stupid hungry caterpillar (also ignoring the fact that it used to be your favorite and you used to beg your grandpa to read over and over again).

This has a better view, anyway, so it’s all worth it.

The smile has replaced itself with a small frown. Oh, like you haven’t seen that before. The frown deepens into a scowl, back to a small frown, and stays a straight line, lips pursed. Finally, your gaymate giggles. Giggles. You should really, really consider bringing a camera next time; this is just too good.

It’s just so fun to watch the expressions he doesn’t know he’s making.

You know by now what all the faces and gestures mean. If he frowns, he’s upset over a character or plot development. If he’s biting his lip, he’s thinking hard. If he taps his fingers on the table, he wants to finish the chapter. If he sways, he needs to pee. Closing his eyes is tiredness, sighing is boredness, pursed lips are frustration, and that smile that practically shines rays of white light obviously means he’s pleased.

You look at him a little longer (your watch says it’s been two hours now, but you don’t believe it. Must be busted or something) but eventually take the book away from your face. You know you have to meet Isaiah in ten minutes, and that’s about a seven-minute walk from here. But you don’t want to go…

… Without seeing your Julie-poo blush today.

So, with an ingenious plan hatching from the bottom of your brain, you smirk and make your way over to your destination. He’s too concentrated on his book; he doesn’t realize you’re next to him. You clear your throat. He keeps reading. You clear your throat again. He keeps on reading.

Slightly miffed, you take the book you got earlier and slam it down on the table next to him. He jumps about three feet in the air (your smirk widens as you giggle inwardly) and turns around quickly.

“WHO--?!” He tries to start, but his voice turns into a cute widdle squeak when he sees you. He’s so shocked; you’re willing to bet he might have pissed himself. His face is so priceless right now, you just want to lean in and pinch his cute widdle cheeks.

“Hey Honey! Fancy meeting my Sugar-Bum here,” you sing, listening in bliss as it echoes throughout the building. Some old lady shushes you. Your Julian tries to disappear into his book by covering up his face.

But that’s not good enough, now is it?

“What’s the matter, Winky-Buttons? You seem a little—” you put your lips onto to his ear for effect “—needy.”

He cringes, getting out of that chair faster than you’ve ever seen him move. You grin. “L-L-L-L-L-L-Landon!” Awww, he’s so cute when he’s panicked. “S-s-s-s-shut up! What are you doing here?!”

“Pookie-Pants, can’t you see? I’m merely checking out this book,” You hold it out for both of you to see (and for the first time you look at what you’ve been carrying). You couldn’t have picked a better book at random. “See? See? It’s highly educational!”

He stares in horror at the copy of “How To: Gay Sex and More” in your hands.

Clearly whoever is up there in the sky is looking down upon you.

He pushes past you, trying to get out of the building as fast as possible. You yell (despite what the old hag told you), “OKAY, MY JULSY-FAG, WE’LL BE GAY LATER!” at his disappearing back.

This is the only reason you go to the library, after all.