Comments and criticism are always appreciated.

Disclaimer: I definitely do not own Zoey 101; if I had, Season 4 would have been a banana of a very different color...

I don't recall the first one I saw. Or even the second. But suddenly there was a sea of them floating idly passed, each glistening against the perfect blue sky of Friday afternoon. I glanced up from my laptop to inspect them, only to have one approach my nose. I crossed my eyes as the small bubble popped against my brow. Chuckling, I gazed down the line of translucent soap spheres, attempting to locate their source. But just as quickly as they appeared, the trail of bubbles was beginning to shorten around the corner of the building.

I can't identify where the internal compulsion came from. Yet it was so prominent I shut my computer tight and shoved it into my backpack, anxious to find out who or what was behind the bubble spree. Snaking my way passed students and carts, natural clumsiness kicked in as I tripped over my flaying feet.

Finding myself reacquainted with the concrete flooring of Pacific Coast Academy's walkway, colder than usual against my face, I contemplated donating my feet to someone who could really use them. Zoey was always talking about how so many kids have prosthetic legs, and Quinn says that medical advances have improved dramatically over the years…

My surgical fantasies were disrupted as another bubble drew near, this one dissolving into the locks of my dark, bushy hair. Pushing up to stand, I charged forward with more determination than Cocoa on all-you-can-eat night at Sushi Rox. The bubbles were my guide, and they led me into the girl's dorm. See-through circles danced beneath the ceiling and I kept my eyes trained on them, maneuvering throughout the mess of girls squawking "oh my god" and "what's he doing". I heard a rustle and screech as I bumped into something that felt swab-like. I mumbled an apology and stepped over the sobbing figure, continuing down the corridor.

I had now concluded that the bubbles were coming from a moving source. One that moved only slightly slower than myself. I reached up to touch the sea of spheres, grinning at the ticklish sensation of soap bursting against my hand. I must have looked pretty foolish, but couldn't bring myself to care. I felt free spirited and ever the more persistent jogging out the building and into the bright-as-life sunshine. The bubble trail shone technicolor with rainbows curved across the surface of each soaring circle. Some kissed each other goodbye before catching themselves on the wings of the wind and rising to greet cotton clouds; others loomed over the campus with peaked curiosity and eavesdropped on conversations.

Looking ahead, I could now spot a bobbing head amongst the clusters of students. Bubbles erupted from behind the stranger's flowing black hair, as sleek as ocean's tide against the sun. My pace hastened, the figure prancing at the same speed I ran. She led me into the courtyard, where her feet grazed the field and glided over flowers. Finally the mull of teenagers had dispersed, and there was nothing obstructing my view of her. She seemed to float over the hill, gradually slowing down and coming to her knees before leaning her thighs to the ground. Only then did my angel have a face.

Was it odd to think that someone looked stunning surrounded by bubbles? Because that was what immediately came to mind as she, not yet aware of my presence, dipped the plastic bubble wand into a magenta-colored jar of soap, and then lifted it above her tiny nose. Her lips pursued gently and the Earth became so quiet that I heard her small exhale. Circles morphed to life and took to the air like doves. The crescent shape of hazel in her eyes was engaged in their flight; within them I could see a simple, innocent wonder I had never before witnessed.

Her traveling eyes returned to the ground and caught glimpse of me. Her mouth opened sideways to reveal dazzling white teeth with a vibrant pink tongue hidden behind them. "Chase!" She waved merrily, inviting me over with an animated flick of her wrist. I moved slowly, the way one would approach an unknown animal, before crouching beside her. That vivacious smile never left her face as she released a slew of words I barely took in. I was startled by the sudden, yet apparent beauty of the girl in front of me.

The trail of bubbles led me to someone I knew, and I could not figure out why that was troublesome. But I began to sense it. The way I looked at her now was not the way I did before. Was she different, or was I? She was giving off an unusually warm glow, and I found myself leaning into her slightly. Her body was lightly swaying but she seemed perfectly balanced. Her calm, yet cheerful vibrancy was so soothing I subconsciously relaxed my shoulders.

She must have noticed my temporary loss of hearing. She suddenly huffed and placed the wand inches in front of me. She blew with impatient vigor, a gallop of bubbles hoarding my face.

I laughed for one reason only- to hear her laugh. She started to, and not wanting it to end I opened my mouth and bit down on one of the larger bubbles. The taste was bitter and wet, but my heart leapt as she giggled harder. The tone in her throat was low; yet so airy and carefree it tickled my stomach and rose up my chest. And the longer she smiled, the farther away I felt. I immediately reached out to take the rod away, prepared to do anything to keep her laughing, when my hand fell onto her slight fingers.

I should have expected that her skin would feel as soft as it looked. Nonetheless I was caught off-guard. I squeezed tighter, embracing the smooth sensation of her knuckles pressed against my palm. Her skin felt cool, and the tips of her fingers sticky with soap. Those stunning eyes never left mine as I leaned into the wand and released a breath I hadn't know I was holding. Newborn bubbles were freed, and roamed briefly between her and me before escaping overhead. They floated high, and then higher still, with my heart riding on their backs.

I did not need a heart right now anyway. I had touch and vision: someone to touch, that someone a vision. In this moment I had her. And I'd never forget how she felt, even if she were never mine again.