I'm fine. Thanks.

2. Stacy

I chuckle. Jimmy is cute. He looks up at me and I give him a grin. He blushes which makes me smile. Seemingly angry he turns away and keeps on writing. Stupid thing, a voice in my head mutters. I turn back to my notebook and copy the rest of the schedule.
After we're all done, Mrs Boyken talks about a lot of organization stuff. I don't really listen. I watch Jimmy drawing something on a piece of paper. Of course he recognizes me and looks up. "May I see?", I ask, my voice lowered to keep from getting into trouble. He looks at me and then back to the paper. Then he pushes one of his black curls out of his face and hands me the piece of paper without saying a word. I turn it around and look at a beautiful drawing of a beautiful woman. She somehow reminds me a bit of Jimmy but she looks a little to old to be his sister. I know he is watching me so I give him a smile. Then I rip a bit of paper from my notebook. I grab my pen and begin to write. Is this your mom? I hand him back the drawing and put my note on top of it. He reads it and does nothing. He just stares at it. After what seemed like forever he takes up his pen and scribbles a short answer. Then he fold the piece of paper up and puts it down on my desk. I carefully unfold it. Yes. No explanation, no nothing. Just a simple yes. I wonder what took him so long to answer.
Finally the bell rings and the entire class starts packing up their stuff to leave and have their break.
"Hey", I bend over to Jimmy. "Would you mind showing me around?" "Yes." Came a prompt answer. "I mean no. No I wouldn't mind. Not at all." His clumsiness forces me to smile.
We leave the class room and make our way to the lockers. Fortunately mine is right next to his. We exchange the books and take out music, which we have in the next lesson. "Do you play an instrument?", I ask as we walk through the hallways towards the music room. "Not really"
Why is it so hard to have a simple conversation with him?
Even though he hasn't asked I answer him. "I love music", I begin, "I play the piano and the guitar mainly but I can also play other instruments. And I used to sing a lot." Yes, I know I'm probably talking too much again. I really should get rid of that habit but at least he listened. "Used to sing?" It's the first question he really asks. I didn't think he would comment that in any other way but in mumbling a shirt and annoyed 'mhm'. So I didn't even pay attention of what exactly I was saying. I turn red. Dang it!  "Did I really say that?", I ask quickly so he doesn't see how upset I am with myself. "Yeah positive", he answers. I bite my lip and hope he doesn't notice how scared I feel inside. "Sorry" Jimmy almost whispers the word and I almost overhear it. But it's there. So he has noticed. I look down at the grey floor. We don't speak another word until we're in the music room. I automatically take a place next to Jimmy after I have introduced myself to the teacher, Mr Johnson. I feel the surprised look on his face as I join Jimmy in the back. Fortunately the two of us have all classes except for Photography together. It was one of the subjects I chose this morning in the office when I arrived and was brought to my class. Mr Johnson welcomes the class and asks them a bit about their holidays. As he asks Jimmy the whole class turns around. Some of them have mean smiles on their faces and I wish I could punch them just to stop them from doing that. Jimmy looks up. "Nothing", is all he says. Mr Johnson is polite enough not to ask him any further but the class starts mumbling. "Such a shame" or "Why didn't he kill himself?" are the most common among them. I feel sick. What wrong did Jimmy do for them to hate him that much? I look over at him. He tries to shrink as deep as possible into his seat. Just as if he wanted to be invisible. I look at Mr Johnson but he doesn't seem to care. So without further a due I stand up and reach my hand out to Jimmy. "Come on", I say, "If this class can't be respectful, then we shouldn't be here. He stares at me with wide eyes. Then he simply grabbed my hand and pulled himself up out of his chair and followed me out of the room. Everyone was silent now. "I'm sorry Mr Johnson.", I say, "We'll be back when this class has managed to be less rude." I push Jimmy out of the door and shut it. He just stares at me all the time. I start to feel uncomfortable. "What?", I ask, "Was that bad?" "No", he says and then a tiny smile lights up his face. It's the first time I see it and just like that it's gone again. "It's just that ... no one has ever done something like that before for me. In my entire Life." A sudden feeling of happiness rushes through my veins. I'm surprised. Not only at Jimmy's smile and his response but also because all of a sudden I feel happy. I don't even recall when I last felt happy. "Well", I answer, "There has to be a first time for everything." I just shakes his head in unbelief. "I can't believe you just did that" I smile."So, what do you want to do?", I ask as we start walking down the hallway to our lockers. 

We end up sitting on the roof of one of the buildings and enjoy the view over Toronto. It sure is a beautiful city. Perfect for a whole new beginning, I think to myself. Jimmy starts to draw again. I peek over his shoulder to see. It's a sketch of the skyline itself. I wish I had my guitar with me right now. Then the both pf us could create something beautiful and not just him. I turn my head to the sun, close my eyes and let it's warmth shine on my face. All those stereotypes I heard in Atlanta about Canada being cold and snowy all the time were so wrong. It is August and the sun seems even warmer than in Georgia.  But maybe I just think it is, because I feel happy again.