You have no idea why he wants to spend one iota of time with you. He has no idea that you probably have nothing in common. You know it's going to be awkward--it's fine, your mom will be happy you're getting out of the house. You absolutely know you are not his type, and, somehow, you'll be the one making up all the conversation (because you hate sitting in silence).
But then Saturday night creeps around and he shows up on your doorstep in his jeans from Walmart, and you're already laughing by the time he opens your car door, and then he takes you to the zoo, and he buys you hot chocolate, and he makes you flirt so hard you can barely walk a straight line, and you make him laugh so hard you wonder if he's crazy. And it's just a really good time.
He takes you out again. And it's another good time.
Then he falls off the face of the planet for several months. It's perfectly fine. You have a life.
And a long long long time later, out of the clear blue sky, he texts you in the middle of his basketball game. He wants to know if he can call you later. He wants to know if you can talk more.
But then he moves halfway across the world.