Forget- Me- Not

The classroom suddenly fell silent.

The noisy group ceased bickering and making jokes. Even Ethan and Erin- or should I say, “E- squared”—stopped fighting over the single chocolate Pocky stick left in the box to stare at the intruders of the room. How about me? I looked up and turned to observe the new guy. He certainly did not look like a full- blooded American to me. Well, I noticed this since

1) his deep set eyes makes him one-third Japanese, and

2) the color of his eyes are light brown—I think it’s chestnut—with some color in it that tells me he is kind of Spanish.

But what makes him American is that his nose is kind of pointed and that his jaw is angular, which makes it very manly. I noted this because Ally told me how her past, er, foreign boyfriends looked like.

Actually, he looked familiar to me. That’s weird, because my senses tell me I know him. I moved in my seat uncomfortably to shrug the thought away. It’s impossible, I have just met him.

Mr. Atkinson cleared his throat, and began, “Morning, class…” We greeted his monotonous tone with only a slight nod. Our teacher glanced—actually; he kind of glared more—at the new student, and continued, “Meet Tadashi Kawano here.”

"Buenos días, señora. Watashi wa Tadashi desu. It's nice to meet you," he fluently spoke in three languages. He smiled, and girls around me were drooling on their desks already. But he didn't seem to enjoy their attention that much. I guess he didn’t either, because the guys were shooting spears and swords at him. Ooh… creepy.

But I thought.

Tadashi? What kind of name is that? When I first saw him, I thought his name would be something like those cool names from the Japanese cartoons. You know something like, Sasuke… or Ichigo? Ryuuzaki? But Tadashi is his name, just plain Tadashi. Well, never mind, since he is so… attractive.

“His family just came back from Spain yesterday to pursue his studies here about metallurgy…” Tadashi nodded politely. Some girls chirped in amazement. My jaw went ajar, and so did E- squared. “…which is a thing here Ranford Academy has a specialty at.” He concluded.

He took another fleeting look at Tadashi, and told him, “You may take a seat now, Mr. Kawano.” He obeyed, and went to stride his way to the last unoccupied seat beside me. He eyed me for a second, and I wasn’t sure if I saw a glint of smile or a grimace. He looked at me weirdly, like he suddenly remembered something—which is odd.

A group of bubbly cheerleaders couldn’t take their eyes off him. Then they saw me and pouted. I stared at them defiantly to shrug their rancid look at me. Luckily, they did. Good thing Tadashi didn’t notice because he was busy getting something in his bag as he sat down. I pretended to find something down my boots.

When he finally got what he needed—his notebook, he glanced at me, and called, “Hello, there!” I stopped looking for something-that’s-not-really-there, and smiled.

“Oh, hi,” I greeted ruefully, not sure where this conversation would lead to.

He grinned back and offered his hand. I looked at it and took it. I shook his big hand, and then suddenly, he giggled. I took my hand away from his grip, and glared at him. Somehow, something tells me that I’m definitely not going to like this person.

“Why are you laughing, Tadashi?” I inquired innocently. (AND furiously.)

He shot me a look, and joked, “Well, Miss Green Eyed Monster knows my name, but I don’t know hers.” Then he leaned in closer and added sarcastically, “Isn’t giving me your name a part of exchanging greetings?”