By the way: There's something about the way

There's something about the way he looked, sitting on the back of the lorry truck.
Maybe it's the way he crossed his legs or maybe it was the way his bright orange uniform shone in the afternoon sun.
Or perhaps it was the way he listened to his friend, or not, or the way he leaned against nothing.
Maybe it was the way there's something about the way he looked at me.