My Senior year at High School has been amazing as well as complex— apart from my classes, I've been managing my friends, sports, drama club, and debate team. It's not much compared to some of the Nerdy kids at my school who have way too much going on in their lives, but hey, I'm not complaining!
A few weeks ago, I noticed a guy staring at me. I didn't think of it much at the time, but it began to make me uncomfortable. I'd try to smile or say "Hi" but whenever I'd look back— he'd look away like nothing happened... it was somewhat creepy too!
This continued for days— I even thought I'd got ketchup, mayo or something on my face— but that wasn't it! I was curious as to why the boy kept staring at me. I thought of all the possible reasons but nothing made sense. I just wanted to ask him "Why do you keep staring at me (or maybe in my general direction..??" but I somehow never could muster the courage to do so! Instead, I let it be as it is. Why?— Because, as creepy and odd it sounds, I liked that there was someone who kept staring at me...
Days went by, and the same thing continued. Wordless stares, no initiation for conversation. Weeks went by like that.
Sometime in mid-June, the weather was surprisingly windy and the rain was pouring hard— I was standing outside the Cafeteria without an umbrella, waiting for the rain to let down, when Darius— (that was his name, I'd learned)— came up and asked, "Do you want to share an umbrella?"
I don't quite know how or why, but my heart started throbbing; my previous assumptions and awkwardness towards him went incognito!
"Yes!"
We walked to my house which was a good fifteen minutes walk from the school cafeteria. Fifteen minutes felt like an hour as we walked past familiar blue and white picket-fences, the convenience store, and the colorful graffitied walls. We walked silence but it seemed our energies and bodies were conversing somehow. A brush of his elbow on my shoulder, a quick glance here and a tug there— to pull the other away from the torrential downpour.
We bid eachother farewell at my doorstep, and he went on his way.
The next day, I thought things would change since he reached me home and we'd exchanged pleasantries. I was wrong! We were back to the usual non-verbal communication with longing stares and mixed feelings. It was frustrating at this point— I thought we both had feelings for each other, or was I deluding myself into thinking that he may feel the same way too?
I thought I'd keep this thing a secret but I desperately needed some advice on what I should do— so I looked to my one and only friend Rue. She isn't concerned about much, other than where her next score comes from! However, when it comes to giving advice, she's the go-to person! I asked her what she feels I should do.
"What should you do?", she repeated, staring into the distance.
After almost two full minutes, she spoke— "You should go up to him and ask him out!" With little hesitation, I went home that night and practised what I was going to tell him the next day. The knots in my stomach were growing tighter as the clock ticked louder, and the birds began chirping outside.
I found myself in the school exceptionally early, searching the crowds for his unmistakable frame. When I did spot him, instead of asking him out, I asked him if he could help me with my history project. I was so confident the night before, and even as I walked up to him, but what am I so afraid of, that I couldn't do the one thing I'd wanted to, for the longest time?!
Even after working together for a week, all we said to each other was"Hi" and "Bye." I'd thought things were going well, and we were opening up, becoming closer to eachother, and now— we were still strangers, not saying a word to each other! And to know how we both feel for each other... leaving our deepest feelings unexpressed, and the most important words— unsaid....