I talked to him today.
Well, perhaps talk is too big of a word.
We exchanged a few words. (But isn't that what talking is either way?)
I pretended to be lost and asked him where room thirty-three was.
He looked at me. He looked at me like I was a thing he'd never been before. Not brand and shiny new, but something on the side of the road.
Still new, though.
I tried to lock my smile far, far away. Just look normal, I told myself, squeezing my books to my chest.
It's over by the science block, he said.
Leather jacket. That's what he wore. Black hair. A walking cliché.
I nodded when he said that, even though I already knew.
He looked bored. I wasn't interesting enough. My books were crushing my chest.
Say something interesting.
Umm.
What's your name, by the way? That's all I came up with.
He narrowed his eyes.
'Isayah.'
'Okay.'
Ask for mine, Isayah. What's my name? I was melting, melting, turning into a puddle right in front of him, and he didn't even notice.
Step in me. I wouldn't mind.
(I wonder if Isayah means anything)
'Okay, cool.' That's all he said.
He walked away.
***
Maybe I should go home and polish my skin a bit more.
Make it shiny, shiny, shiny.
