I remember I was the new kid again when I first met you.
I remember a flash or bright orange hair and tan freckles
as you stumbled over my bag.
I remember the exact shade of crimson our faces turned
as we rushed to take blame.

I remember the dusk blue smile in your eyes as you helped to gather
the scrambled contents of my backpack.
I remember avoiding you and the rest of humanity for the rest of the day.
I remember sitting alone on a cold bus seat and suddenly feeling
someone warm sliding in next to me.

I remember the smell of oranges crawling through the air as you introduced yourself
and apologized again for being a klutz.
I remember struggling with shyness for a moment before I could whisper a reply.
And I remember sitting awkwardly in the corner of our seat,
catching a little grin from you out of the corner of my eye after every bump
  that made our shoulders brush.