He smiles and it’s different than the one he entered the room with. That one was full of confidence mixed with a smidgen of arrogance.
This one is brimming with curiosity.
Reaching for my textbook, he pulls it closer to the center of our joined desks. “Where are we?”
With my index finger, I point to the problem Mrs. Martin is currently working out on the board.
But he doesn’t look at the problem.
He touches my wrist.
Electricity zings through my body, discovering nerves I never even knew existed.
“I like your bracelets.” His voice is barely a whisper as his fingers move to inspect several woven bracelets lining my arm. The friendship bracelets are something my best friend, Rachel, and I like to do when we’re bored.
We’re bored a lot.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Does it take you long to make them?”
“Linc, no talking please,” Mrs. Martin scolds, her eyes darting back and forth between us. “Sylvie, you know better.”
I grit my teeth, quickly returning my attention to my work. I hide behind the curtain of my long, blonde hair, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and something else I don’t quite understand. This stupid boy has been sitting next to me for less than five minutes and I’ve already been in trouble.
I ignore him. Refuse to acknowledge him. That is until a piece of notebook paper is placed in front of me.
I’m sorry.
It proclaims in scribbly, stupid boy handwriting.
Okay.
I write back.
Don’t be mad.
Okay.
Can we be friends?
No.
Why not?
Because.
Because why?
Please leave me alone. I’m trying to learn.
Me too.
Then leave me alone.
Not until you agree to be my friend.
Fine, I’m your friend. Now leave me alone, bully!
