We were exchanging glances in homeroom, passing notes back and forth in Western Civ, and, a year later, in English lit. Just notes. We never even sat together at lunch. I brought, and I spent most of those days in the art room, drawing the angles of tables and chairs. I used to hijack still-lifes. No so much that you'd notice, unless you were in the middle of drawing it, of course.
So the notes were really stupid at first. I think you asked to share my textbook, and my reply made you drop your pencil. "I'm not your type." True as salt.
"No, really, I just forgot mine."
I never minded sharing, but you know I had to act annoyed about it.
You never brought your book to class after that.
"Hey."
"Hey back."
"Ha, that's cute."
"What is?"
"Nothing, look, I forgot my book again..."
The weirdest part was how we never talked outside class. I mean, two years and we just went about our separate business. I didn't have too many friends, and I didn't know yours, so I just stayed hidden in the art room all the time, or the bio lab.
I knew your name because you wrote it on all your papers. At the spring dance, I sat in the corner for a while. watching the maelstrom of teenage hormones. It's really very silly, I was thinking, they are all acting so weird.
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