The Boy Across the Street

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I sit at an outside picnic table alone. Morgan isn’t at school and I definitely didn’t buy her story about a stomach bug. That’s her #1 excuse when she’s going shoe shopping with her mom and I’m surprised it still works for her. 

I’m left alone with nothing but my notebook and a smart phone to chase away the boredom, and these two don’t do much. I end up sighing and looking up from the small screen and then I see him. Staring. At me. 

From a picnic table of his own, his purple jaw and swollen lip are on full display. In the sunlight, I can see a dark discoloration across his nose and around his left eye. I look around and see others looking at him too, whispering in hushed voices. 

“What happened?”

“He got into another fight, of course.”

“I wonder if he won?”

“He probably fights dirty.”

No one knows. No one is even thinking about it. Lies can spread like wildfire, while the truth is still struggling to ignite. 

I bite my lip, swallow my words, and drop my gaze. I can still feel the weight of his eyes on my chest. I’ve always wanted him to notice me, to see me, but this is a different feeling that what I imagined it would be like.

I peek up through the hair falling in my face, and suddenly I feel disappointed. He’s not looking at me anymore. 

When did he stop?

He’s reading a torn, black paperback book that I’ve seen before - folded into the back pocket of his worn jeans. I would give anything to see the title. To know the words shifting through his head, the images floating through his mind. I want to know what sentences are able to touch his soul and if any of them make a difference.