Going On

Theo

“Sometimes our light goes out, but is blown again into instant flame by an encounter with another human being.” -Albert Schweitzer 

So something funny happened when Noelle puked on my shoes.

I didn’t really care.

Most of the time, I care about everything- who’s looking at me in the hallway, how I’m walking, how I talk, how people act around me. Even small things like someone tapping their pencil too loud can make me a total nutcase.

But when Noelle puked up whatever small amount of lunch and breakfast she had eaten all over my favorite pair of shoes, I didn’t freak out. My heart rate increased, sure, but that’s to be expected when someone pukes on your shoes out of nowhere.

She puked for what seemed like hours, but was only around two minutes. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes and sat in the chair next to me. The teacher handed her a towel and she wiped off her mouth.

“I want to leave,” she said quietly.

“Call your parents.” The teacher said it sternly, as though he was irritated at her for having a panic attack.

“I... I don’t have my phone...”

I quietly fumbled around in my pocket and slipped her my phone, without making a scene about it. She walked out of the room to call her mom, and I joined the other kids in staring down the teacher.

He shuffled uncomfortably.

“Would any of you like to share your stories?”

No one raised their hands.

“That’s it for today, I suppose.”

He seemed defeated, as though we had broken him. In fact, it was quite the opposite; by shuffling us all in a room and telling us that we, as people, were failures and, not only that, but we were also a part of an even bigger group of failures, so we weren’t even original, he had broken us.

We were already broken to begin with. It was like burning ashes.

I watched as the other kids slowly walked out, staring at anything but each other.

I followed the last kid to leave, and saw Noelle standing in the hallway. I walked up next to her, and she handed me my phone. She wiped the screen with the edge of her shirt before doing so.

“Germs,” she muttered.

“It’s fine.”

She shook her head quickly.

“No, no, it’s not. That could have germs, and then I could get you sick, and then that could get your family sick, and then someone could die, and then it-”

I held my hands up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. It’s fine, Noelle. Really. Seriously. Do you have OCD, or...?”

She shrugged.

“I’m just... Weird with germs. I mean, I have really bad anxiety and depression too, but germs, they...”

She shuddered.

“I don’t like them.”

I nodded.

“I uh... I’m sorry," she muttered, embarrassed.

I shook my head.

“It’s fine, really. I’m the same way.”

She shot a look at me and grinned softly.

“I bet you don’t wash your hands as much as I do.”

“What is this a challenge now? Girl, I will wash you under the table. Just watch me. Or should I say... Ahem... Wash me.”

“Oh my God. No. You did not just say that. That was the dumbest pun.”

“Really? I can do worse.”

“Really? Will it be as punny as the first time?”

We both laughed and then went silent.

I coughed, and Noelle flinched.

“Oh, sorry. I just... I cough sometimes.”

She shook her head and stared at the ground.

“It’s fine,” she muttered quietly.

I had always heard that it takes a long time to fall in love with someone, that it took months of talking and joking and subtle flirting for it to finally happen.

I disregarded that notion while I was standing in the hallway with Noelle, staring at the same ground as her. It ran through my brain that, somewhere else on the earth, the exact same thing was probably happening somewhere else. Someone was falling in love with a girl that was staring at the ground and had brown hair and told dumb jokes and was really quiet, and they didn’t think they were right in the head because they’d only just met.

But when you were in the dark for as long as I was, barely speaking to people most days, going for hours without interaction at a time, just staring at books or occasionally talking to strangers on the computer, and then you meet someone like Noelle, it’s like suffering a drought for a year and then having a hurricane.

You’re bound to feel something.