The Importance

The Pencil

It almost seems as if I have only just blinked and it is Monday again. The weekend has been a quick wildfire, burning everything in sight as it storms to the weekdays. I don't know which day is worse, Monday or Sunday. Honestly, I think that they are equally terrible because, on Sunday, you have the dread of knowing that you have to go back to school but Monday is the day you have to be at school and become surrounded by the uncomfortable, stressful, and indefinite school day ahead.

"Hey, Alexia," Alex's soft deep voice enters my head. "Do you have the notes from science from last week?" He regretfully smiles. 

My cheeks grow warm as I return the gesture, smiling warmly at his calming presence. I feel the pull to immediately agree to give him my notes but coll myself down before I become too embarrassed. 

"I should have them.....I swear I am organized.....sorry," I mumble, mostly talking to myself.

I am slumped against the heater in the band room, my book sprawled in front of me, on my lap. I suddenly become self-conscious and sit up straighter as I discover the notes that I recently encountered when I rummage through the graded papers our teacher precariously forces us to organize. 

"Here. This should be them." I hand the piece of scrap paper to Alex and he plops down beside me, making my heart rush. I hope he doesn't notice me shift slightly over, to the left, away from him. I don't dislike him, I am just not used to people so close to me. 

Alex takes out his science book and initiates copying my video notes. I become marginally uncomfortable and sit rigidly trying to convince myself to not become awkward by saying something stupid. I shift my eyes to his neat and cutty lettering. My notes are much loopier and clean than his but I figure that is because of the rush that he is in.

One time, I read a study on men's and women's handwriting. Some articles attempted to educate me that it was, frankly, impossible to tell apart a male's and female's handwriting. I, however, believe otherwise....

"Am I doing something wrong? Are these the right notes? What?"

Panic surges through my veins as I search for the right response. He smiles and I can't help but beam right back. I feel so embarrassed now.

"No no. I like your handwriting."

So awkward right now!

"I know, my brain works so fast that my pencil just can't keep up with my thoughts," he grins and I roll my eyes, shaking my head. 

"Here," he hands my notes back and grins again, before shuffling to his feet rather unsteadily, "I should be going. Thanks."

"Okay. Bye."

I almost forget his name for a second when I discover that he left his pencil beside me, but he is already out the door. I pick the small thing up and stare at it. It is a pretty basic mechanical pencil. It has a yellow coating and an orange eraser. Yet, what if Alex doesn't have any other pencils that he can use?

He will come back for Band, I will just give it back then.

I forget to give it back to him. I guess that I just got caught up in the music. After that, we also have P.E and Science together. I can surely get it to him then.

Nope. Nada. I fail. When I arrive home from the bus, I again remember that he was on the bus with me. I throw my hands up as soon as I step off the bus steps. Looking back after a few wobbly steps. I look to the lane across the road to see Alex.

I will give it back later.

Of course, I'm sure I will forget.....again. I shake my head before sprinting across the road, almost backing out at the last second. My backpack bumps against my back as I run.