Cracking Zeenath

October 17th, 2015: Apologize

      Tuesday, I lingered outside my Art class, my fingers tightening around the plastic spiral binding of the notebook I held pressed to my chest. I didn't want to see him quite yet. I still felt bad for blowing up at him like I did and I didn't know what to say. What do you tell a guy who's a complete stranger to you?

I pursed my lips.

One minute left.

I hated being late to anywhere and my toes scuffed the tiled flooring, restless to get through the door.

I sucked in a breath.

Here goes nothing.

      His eyes found mine the second I entered and I froze. I bit my lip and started walking towards him, keeping my eyes on my chair instead of his face. It took all my energy not to turn around and run away right then and there. I slowly put my bag down beside the table and took a seat, busying myself with taking out my pencils and notebook. Finally, I straightened in my seat and glanced at him before looking back up at the board. He was busy looking at his own notebook, pencil moving across the page with the practiced hand of a person who knew what he was doing.

      Throughout class, I worked on my own version of the display at the front of the room, scrawling crooked lines across my page, working them into something that looked more like a ghastly version of the Grim Reaper's face than the collection of cloth, teddy bears, and glass jars at the front of the room. And the class dragged on, the heavy silence keeping me from even taking another glance in his direction.

Once class was dismissed, I shot up out of my seat and turned towards the door.

"Hey."

      I paused, then went about my business, trying to play it off as if I didn't hear him. I started walking away from the table and heard him blow out a breath, clothing and paper rustling as he shifted. A warm weight closed around my free wrist and I stopped in my tracks, turning around to face him instead. He looked at me before dropping his eyes and releasing my arm, muttering something that I couldn't hear. He stared at the table, fingers running through his hair.

"Let's meet in the park today. After class." He glanced at me. "If it's alright with you."

I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth and nodded.

"'Kay then..." He trailed off. I rubbed my forehead and peeked at him from under my hand.

"Okay. Bye."

He looked up at me just as I flew out of the classroom.

      At the end of the day, I stumbled into the clearing with my notebook and pencils. I'd left my bag in my dorm; no need to carry it around just for a couple of papers and pencils. He stood up as I approached and there was an awkward silence like a stretched rubber band. I dropped my eyes to the notebook I clutched to my chest, hiding behind it to avoid looking up at him.

"Hello." I said to my notebook.

He slowly let out a long breath through his mouth. "Uh, listen. What happened last time..."

"I'm sorry."

He stopped and stared at me. "You? For what?"

I studied my sneakers. "I shouldn't have yelled at you," I chewed my lip. "It's not your fault."

He shook his head and chuckled. "I should be apologizing, not you."

I narrowed my eyes at the base of the tree. This was a first. The Iron Man laughing. "For what?" I asked.

"You were right. It wasn't my business."

I looked at him and another moment of silence passed. I puffed out a cheek and pouted, feeling small under the tree.