Silent, Miseot [best android ereader txt] 📗

Near winter my sophomore year a new student arrived in my algebra class. His hair was blond and extremely curled and it seemed that a frown was perpetuated upon his face. However, the guy turned out of become pretty popular and known, not throughout the class, but also throughout my grade. I respected him, solely on the fact that he became popular without speaking a word. He never talked, he always did movements to explain things, or wrote notes to students and teachers. I never talked either, so I just wondered, how? It wasn't envy though, I realized that unlike me, he tried to socialize, not push people away. We only had algebra together. The first few days of him joining that class our peers took note of his mute behavior, even though then he didn't try to 'speak' with anyone. We sat beside each other on that account. Despite getting referrals, which I never got, I would sleep in class if I already knew the work. I recall one of the football players who sat adjacent to us saying 'We got the one that never talks and the one that always sleeps in this group' as he talked to the other groups of desk nearby. I liked that, being grouped with him, the mute. The football player seemed amused as well, so it didn't leave any bitter feelings with me. Then, for awhile, we weren't beside each other anymore. I thought nothing of it at the time, since I was stuck in the sweet darkness of the inside of the eyelids. It was only later, when we were beside each other again, that I grew a liking to it. We weren't assigned seats the second time, I preferred to sit in one spot everyday, and most of the time if I looked over to my left, he'd be there. I grew a curiosity for him at this point, observed him during my usual nap hours. The most I got out of it was hearing his laugh, a laugh he tried to suppress, one I only got to hear. Or it least, one I hoped only I heard. I have one regret though. A regret that will leave me curious possibly for the rest of my life. He wrote a note to me once, a simple 'Hi!' or was it 'Hi! How are you?' and slid the note onto my empty desk. I froze up. I'd never written a note, not even to a girl I was friends with and desperately wanted to talk to. After a moment, I shook my head, as if the paper had a giant scorpion on it, and he slid the paper back onto his desk. I don't remember what he did to it, I won't fill in a gap either, I just remember how awkward I felt as I pretended to be interested in class, and determined not to turn my head in his direction for the rest of the period, but that wasn't exactly what I regretted. A week goes by, maybe, and of all places, I'm at home, still bothered at the note. I find a piece of paper and write as well as I could, carefully, and slow before I tucked it into my backpack. That day he didn't sit next to me, as a coward I couldn't muster up the courage to hand him the note I had wrote. Perhaps he felt hurt that I rejected his attempt to become friendly with me. I guess it was good that he wouldn't have a anti-social loser for a friend. All I had to do, was give him that damned note, and I'd probably would learn 'Why do you never talk?'

Publication Date: 12-31-2012

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