How His Gift Saved Me

The Confession

I continued to stare blankly at the wordless page in front of me.  Well, this was a first.  Usually I couldn’t stop writing.  But Mrs. Welch gave us the prompt over fifteen minutes ago, and I still had not a single word committed to my paper.

I felt something warm brush softly against my leg under the table, and just like that it was gone.  There it was again!  I was beginning to wonder if Mrs. Welch brought the cat she’s always obsessing over to class. That time it was less like a brush and more like a kick!  I looked up to see Tom grinning with that famous half-smirk of his, though the smile was optional at this point.  His eyes spoke for him.  You could see his laughter in the way he softened and glared his eyes at me. 

“I swear, Leigh.  For being the ‘brain’ that you are, you can be so oblivious sometimes.”

I started to scoff at him, when I decided to take the higher road.  I wasn’t even going to dignify that with a response. 

“Ah, what the hell?” I thought.

“Me?  The brain?  I’m not the one who uses words like ‘oblivious’ in everyday conversation.” 

He feigned a pouty face, looking absolutely adorable in the process. 

“You seriously need to work on your social skills when talking to people your own age, Tom.” 

At my final jab, he pretended to stab an imaginary dagger through his heart.

“Bahahahaa!” I cackled, almost peeing myself. 

Mrs. Welch, lifted her eyes from her cheesy romance novel only to say, “Tom, I hope it’s your assignment that’s making Leigh laugh.  I am certainly looking forward to reading it now.” 

I hadn’t talked with her in a while.  I hoped she’s doing okay.  Thanksgiving was around the corner, so I’d image that’s what has her upset- not being able to see her daughter and all.  At the thought of this, I suddenly felt sad. 

“I should write her a special something.  Maybe I could get Tom in on it too.  Oh!! I have the perfect idea!  Why don’t I get the whole class in on it?  We could make her a “Why we’re thankful for Mrs. Welch” poster just in time for Thanksgiv…” I mentally planned, going off on yet another internal tangent.

I must have been off in another daze because Tom kicked me AGAIN! Okay, this was getting really old. I cut my eyes at him sharply and stone-facedly hissed, “WHAT? Are you trying to get me into trouble too?”

Shocked at the anger I heard in my own words, I regretted them instantly.  Tom actually looked hurt this time.  I was such an idiot sometimes!  “I didn’t mean that, Tom…”

“I only kicked your leg to get your attention.  Apparently you didn’t hear me snap my fingers or see the paper ball I threw in your direction,” he said lightly. “Seeing as you have not a single word written on your page, I was trying to teleport you back to this class.” 

I looked down at my paper.  Not a single word was written, just as Tom said.  Crap. 

“You do realize we’re supposed to trade papers at the end of the period?” he laughed.  He was right. Crap. Crap. Crap.  “If you want to work on it for a while, then I was thinking maybe.. uh.. we could meet up at Hastings after my practice to trade.”

To the best of my knowledge, I had never been with Tom outside of school.  I had seen him at football games.  I had run into him a few times at the movies and the grocery store.  But I had never purposefully seen him outside of school.  This was different, new. 

“Okay sure,” I said coolly, trying not to sound too excited.  I’d always been the slightest bit intrigued as to what he was like outside of these prison walls.  (I was mostly curious if he was always so mellow...)