I can't say no to a Venture Brothers reference, especially on the eve of their glorious return to TV. So, Walter, if that is your real name, let's get down to it.

In answering your question, I will assume you are wondering about a particular girl, and not just wondering if women around you are constantly trying to get into your pants. I will further assume that this is a girl with whom you have friendly, regular relations, and not from whom you must hide whilst peering through her window with an old-timey spyglass. If either of these assumptions is incorrect, I cannot help you (other than to recommend binoculars and/or not stalking people).

Being able to gauge a woman's interest in you is fairly simple. Does this girl smile at you? Seem to want to spend time with you? Make excuses to touch you, or generally touch you more than her other male friends? Is she naked behind you right now? Any of these subtle clues could tip her hand.

The hard part is being able to stop reading into every little thing, dissecting every minute detail, and getting utterly lost in the haze of your own anxiety-lust complex. Thanks to evolution, when you're seventeen, there's a whole lot of awesome chemicals coursing through your veins (in addition to whatever chemicals you might put in there), and they basically make you go insane so that you'll wildly hurl yourself at women until babies pop out.

If you're anything like me, or indeed pretty much anyone when they were that age, you're probably so focused on figuring out if this girl likes you, or if her sitting across from you instead of next to you at the food court means she secretly despises you, that you wouldn't be able to tell if she were interested or not short of her tattooing your face onto her lower back.

Take a deep breath. Star up into the stars. Ponder your utter tininess in the vast machinery of the universe. Then, as a disinterested outsider, go over the evidence in your mind and decide whether this girl is interested. Chances are, you know the answer. You're just so invested in its outcome you won't let yourself admit to it either way.

I guess what I'm saying is "look into your heart," but hopefully in a less douchey sort of way. Like, in a way that wears a leather jacket, but doesn't make a big thing about it. Oh, and if it turns out she's not interested, try not to stare up into the stars or ponder your tininess too much. That shit will take you to a dark place, brother.