Behind Our Backs

The first time I actually noticed Skylar, she was on the blacktop. Her phone was in her left hand and her right hand was fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, moving it away from her skin as if she wanted it off. She, of course, did not take off her shirt in front of all the thirteen and fourteen-year-old boys surrounding her by the basketball hoops. Normally, Ava and I would be shooting hoops after indulging in her mom's homemade menudo. She only made it on the weekends when she was off work so we could eat it on Monday. In Ava's absence from school that day, I watched the boys shoot hoops in boredom. They never let me play with them unless Ava was around; she was the athletic one, I just liked the game. I don't know what interested me about Skylar. Her hair was plain and brown. Just brown, not chestnut, not chocolate. Brown. I suppose she was just something to look at besides sweaty boys. My parents made me leave my phone at home to "improve my learning." Pssh.

I felt bad for not noticing the girl before: we'd been classmates since grade school. I think we'd only been in separate classes before junior high in the third grade. I knew a few things about Skylar though we weren't friends: she was obsessed with a different thing every few weeks, she was the top of our class, and she loved those EOS chapstick things. Or, at least I assumed so since she was always applying it. The only other thing I knew, and only noticed that instant, was that she loved Steven Universe. She had some of the characters on her backpack. I never liked the show that much; I stopped watching cartoons when I was ten. That was baby stuff.

I didn't talk to her then, just stared. I couldn't bring myself to much else though I'd never been shy. I guess I didn't know what to say: 'hey, we've only been classmates for like 8 years, and I just decided to talk to you.' I wonder if she knew I was staring. Maybe that was why she was fidgeting. A thought entered my mind. Where were her friends? It was nearly the end of lunch and no one had done so much as looked at her, except me. Maybe she never had friends. My stomach ached with nervous guilt. A loud ring ended the class. Saved by the bell or fucked over by it?

I grabbed my backpack, slung it over one shoulder, and marched on to class. Mr. Turner was going to be pissed if I missed half his class again. Sorry but there is absolutely nothing interesting about Latin. No one liked that class...except Skylar, I think. Maybe she was just good at it. I made it to my desk, threw my backpack to the ground, and waited for Mr. Turner's chrome dome to peek into the room. Ava never had this class so I usually wrote song lyrics in my notebook to try out with my guitar later. I lacked inspiration today so I looked around the room until I found Skylar's desk. Ever the perfect student, she had her agenda and pencil out to write that day's homework when Mr. Turner scribbled it on the board. She still had a pencil case, I noted absentmindedly. Not the elementary school ones they make you have, but one of those ones that snap closed with plastic buttons. Most of us gave up on organization except for our dollar store binders. One mechanical pencil with lead and eraser replacements and my yellow highlighter was all I'd ever need. Skylar's eyes moved from the front of the room to a spot close to my shoulder. She wasn't looking right at me but she was looking at me. My own observation barely made sense to myself. I got a quick look into her golden eyes and turned away. For a few seconds, her gaze lingered on me. Then, I assume she looked away because I no longer felt like I was being watched.

#

After the last bell rang, I found myself loitering by the girls' bathroom waiting for nothing in particular. Normally, I rode my bike home. I didn't need to stay but I couldn't be bothered to go home yet. And soon I found it may have been intuition. Irritatedly fiddling with her shirt, which I realized was a tight long sleeve with flowers on the front, Skylar rushed past me into the bathroom. Without hesitation, I went in after her. She took the last stall on the far end of the bathroom and I stood in front of it. Her arms flew into the air and flowery fabric followed them. I suddenly felt very creepy standing there.