Never

He loved her in kindergarten when she cried so hard after breaking the yellow crayon that she had to be sent to the nurse’s office. He loved her in 2nd grade when they were paired to file into the Church beside one another, dressed in their perfectly pressed communion wear. He loved her in 4th grade when he was one of the three boys invited to her birthday party. He loved her in 6th grade when they were partners for a presentation on Abraham Lincoln and she dressed up as Mary Todd and he as Honest Abe. He loved her in 8th grade when she earned a week of detentions for blackening the eye of the boy who called Father Jim a pedophile. He loved her in high school when she drove him home after service club meetings and smiled goodbye to him in his driveway. He loved her when she posed for prom pictures in her front yard with Tom McKinley’s arm around her waist. He loved her when she smiled and waved at him from the front seat of Tom McKinley’s bright red car as he checked his mail. He loved her in spite of (or perhaps because of) the fact that she would never love at him the way he loved her.

She loved him in kindergarten when he peed his pants while playing dodgeball and walked slowly to the bathroom, one tear sneaking down his cheek. She loved him in 2nd grade when he read from the Book of Deuteronomy at their first communion, pronouncing each word with the utmost care. She loved him in 4th grade when he came to her birthday party and gave her a water-color set, complete with brushes and paper. She loved him in 6th grade when he agreed to wear a top hat and color a beard on his face to fulfill her vision of Abraham Lincoln for their presentation in History class. She loved him in 8th grade when he read his paper on modern saints aloud to the class. She loved him in high school when he would thank her for bringing him home after Students of Service, even though she wished he would have said so much more than 'thank you.' She loved him when he walked slowly to his mailbox as she had her picture taken before prom, causing her perfect smile to falter. She loved him as she climbed into her date’s sports car, his corsage on her wrist. She loved him in spite of (or perhaps because of) the fact that he would never love her the way she loved him.

(Reason I posted this- it really does belong in an actual wastebasket. I wrote it in class, what do you expect?)
Edit: I tried to follow your suggestions, Elizabeth; they were definitely right on! It really was something I randomly thought of but it's always good to edit, and there's a ton more I could do to it. Time permitting.