The Stalker

I walked down the hall, talking to my friend Jessica, who had just moved here from another school. She had actually gone to the same school as me in the fifth grade, but she moved away. Now she was back again.
We were talking about classes or something along those lines when I saw the Mohawk Boy, John, walk into a science classroom. I have that class fourth block, I thought.
I wondered if I would be considered some kind of stalker. Every time I saw this kid I seemed to watch him. Not exactly on purpose, though. I suppose his hair caught my attention, and when I noticed him I would never have any reason to look away, so I ended up watching him.
I bet he would be a little disturbed if he knew I did that, though, I thought.
I suppose anybody would. I would.
It's rather a disturbing kind of thing, though, isn't it? I've never spoken a word to this person and I already know his name, who he hangs out with, and what class he has third block.
I really hope he never finds that out.