I finally flirted with a girl. Now before you read the narration below, I suggest for added effects you listen to the following song. http://m.iqiyi.com/v_19rrnu09uw.html
Or http://5sing.kugou.com/m/detail/bz-2665111-1.html if you don't want the Chinese lyrics (preferably this one actually).
Spring, 2016.

That time of the year again, when the lavenders
bloom and the new leaves shed their first due. SAS school, after a season of winter, is first noticeably observed to have cracked it's embryo, the campus's cries of agony after a year of academic pressure, culminating in AP testing, has finally been replaced with hallways of laughter. Scents of love are aroused from hibernation, responding to the typical teenager's hormones, anticipating a season of love.

Michael, a stereotypical antisocial nerd whom most either ignored or disregarded as weird, unapproachable, or plain arrogant, was sitting in the library one day, back hunched over and wearing a jacket, as always, to hide his belly fat. He yawned, tired after another night wrestling with esoteric topics like Pell's equation or radical axes that no one cared for but himself. It seems that nothing could take his eyes away from his own little world which he derives his own form of pleasure, until she entered the library.

Her silky hair radiated with shampoo odor, no doubt the product of scrupulous work by her hands. Her dark eyeliner added icing to the cake, bringing out her adorable eyes no doubt the source of heartaches of guys. Her body was slim, but still upheld a kind of dignity that demanded attention. She strolled elegantly around the library, her footsteps cat-like and her smile the highlight of all the nerds who have no better way to spend a Friday afternoon.

Her red-carpet walk ended in her graceful recline into a couch 2 seats away from mine, ignoring my presence. She began texting, probably interested in jocks whose muscles double that of mine.

Michael, stop looking. She's way out of your league. Now get those eyeballs-which-know-no-boundaries of yours off her and back to this Pigeonhole problem.

I wish things could've ended here, until she caught me staring, turned, and gave me a. I swear that no doctor who was monitoring my heart rate could reasonably call off my heart rate that instant as anything less than a heart attack.

I feel obligated to initiate a conversation, and yet before I could bring my heart rate down to aerobic level, she's already got a fashion magazine in her hand, her time too precious to be wasted eyeing a nobody.

Look, Michael, you've been practicing. Don't let all those google searches and the exp. you gained from your rejected prom proposals go to waste. With enough confidence, I'm sure you can navigate through even the world's most complicated labyrinths aka girls' minds. You can do it. Yes, I see you.

Then I did it. Here's a slightly altered version of what happened to give you guys an idea:

Me: Um, hi?
Girl: Oh hey!
Me: ......................
Girl: Um, what's your name? I'm Yvonne.
Me: ...My...my...uh...my
Girl: Your what?
Me: My... Michael

Alright alright you giggling blog readers. Remember how I said I've practiced? Well, I do have a few plays in my playbook, taken from the wonders of Internet like yahoo answers, wikihow and ask.com.

Play 1: Give target a compliment and expose her vulnerability

Me: ...Your...your (gulps) hair looks nice.
Girl: *discloses a who-on-earth-are-you-to-compliment-my-hair smile.* Uh thanks.
*awkward silence*

FAIL.

Play 2: Target still standing? Hit her with questions to find a common topic.

Me: Do you like...like... *notices her looking at a fashion magazine* fashion?
Girl: Um yea! I was just studying some new trends in the newest line of tops for my art and design class. We're asked to analyze the recent trends in the market and to design our own tops, and the class will vote. Are you also into fashion?
Me: .........
*girl gives a doubtful stare*
Me: ...Y...Ye...yea... I am...
Girl: Cool! Apparently Activewear Rhinestone tank tops are the newest trend. Many girls just like these slim cutting-edge tops for some reason nowadays. What fashion trends are you interested in?
Me: Um *looks nervously around* that guy there in the black thing looks ok.
*....................*

FAIL.

Play 3: Target still up? If all else fails, crack a joke.

Baby I wish I could take your derivative so I can study your curves.
Baby I wish I could take your derivative so I can study your curves.
Baby I wish I could take your derivative so I can study your curves.

Say it.
SAY IT, MICHAEL. SAY. IT.

Me: Baby........
Girl: *confused*
Me: Baby........
Girl: *impatient*
Me: Babies have nice fashion trends as well.

Great save Michael, now scramble around and look for another one.

Then I remembered the entirety of my arsenal of jokes consist of lame math puns, all of my attack 'combos' rendered useless in front of a goddess.

FAIL.

Girl: What is it that you're doing there? Math?
Me: *almost flips my desk over* NO um... Sorry... I mean... It's nothing, just some... random things not worth looking at *covers geo diagrams with hands*

By then I must've been making such a big fool of myself she saw right through me, and might've thought I'm actually kind of cute, like a persevering toad reaching for the beautiful swan albeit failing hilariously, and what happened next will forever leave a scar, a beautiful one, in the abyss of my heart.

Girl: *takes a paper on the ground covered with diagrams of the nine point circle, and with a smile, wrote down her phone number.*
Girl: Here's my number. If you're not too busy... with those circles of yours, call me. *puts her hand to her ear and makes a shape of a phone*

Defeated. Pathetic. Useless. I had let a girl take the initiative, perhaps out of pity rather than interest. All those research I did, those plays i formulated, rendered obsolete in the blink of an eye. I got her number, but it was the product of pity, not the fruits of victory. For years I had been ignored, my countless prom proposals rejected, my relationship with my ex (yes I had an ex but it was entirely on Skype) ended by her simply cause she thought I was so low on the popularity hierarchy that I might contaminate hers, my lump of fat shadowed by those jocks whose bodies can supersede any finite number of hours I spend researching and get themselves any girl they want. I had been a good kid, studying, hoping to earn the admiration of girls. Girls, do you not see me? Nerds are the ones who'll buy you the nice houses, pay the bills, foster a family, not those bad boys, some of which think that just cause they're popular in high school they can make a living playing sports! I had stood by my own beliefs, making the assumption girls are not superficial and will make good judgements, when in reality, nice guys finish last!

I clenched my fists in vain as Yvonne began packing up to leave, knowing now that all my courage had been poured out I would never be anything more than a punctuation mark in her autobiography. My teeth clattered in fury, fury, FURYYY...........VONNE!

She turned.

Yea?

*deep breath* Do you mind if I ask you to come have Starbucks with me after school?

*Caught off guards and surprised*

Um... Sure, I guess?

So... I guess I'll see you in 3 hours?

Yea.

The next 10 secs were no doubt torturous, as I had to wait for her to exit my sight before I could begin my victory dance, much to the entertainment of a couple of spectators around.

I wanted to yell to those nerds in the library so long suckers! My life felt as if it had taken a turn for the better, and my dream of one day rising up from the squalors