Shuffling papers quickly, I finish my passing time necessities just in time to catch a glimpse of her coming down the hall. She has her eyes rolling back and forth from wall to wall and along the floor in between, as she usually does. She moves at a long paced saunter down the hall, stopping abruptly at her locker, directly across the hall from mine. I try to not appear to be staring as I watch her out of the corner of my eye.
Such a silent mystery surrounds her. We have been in the same school since second grade and I still know next to nothing about her. I should probably just talk to her. Ask her all the questions I have. Like, what is she thinking when she makes that face? The one where the left eyebrow comes slightly higher than the other while both raising in a slight furrow. Or the other one where the right eye flashes. Maybe they both do, but that’s all I can see from my vantage point in history.
Perhaps it’s my own paralyzing fear that I see reflected in her face when her eyes meet mine. Yet, it’s enough to keep me at a distance. No one talks to her unless they are required to for a class. I don’t think she wants to get to know anyone.
And so, I keep my distance. Secretly watching and waiting for a glimpse into her. Wondering what a world like hers is like. Hoping I don’t miss my chance. Hoping I haven’t already missed it. Hoping I see her again, tomorrow.