His Notebook

Hello! This is just a random story I've started writing. Any comments would be appreciated :)

Despite my constant efforts to maintain perfect grades and a quiet yet assertive attitude in class, I was handed an orange slip upon my first meeting of Daniel Cherry. In my school, an orange slip meant you were sent to a quiet room for ‘reflection’ on your wrongful doing, and how you, as a young and independent being, could work towards socially acceptable behaviour. In other words, it was detention. Mrs Jarvis just kept shaking her senile head and telling me “kids have no respect these days,” but when I tried to plead my case, telling her that it was the work of an imbecile, and that I in fact do have respect for elders, she just looked at me through her perched glasses then walked off, leaving me with a direct pass to an afternoon confinement.

You see, when I walked into my English class, Mrs Jarvis decided that instead of allowing us to sit with our friends, she would place us in appropriate seating positions to allow for bonding with those we’ve never fully acknowledged. As everyone was paired up, I was placed next to Daniel Cherry. He sat at the back of the classroom, his unbrushed hair in a sort of upward curve and his right eyebrow pieced. He was quiet, never really talked in class, and I often saw him writing in a notebook at lunchtime alone. In fact, the notebook was on his desk when I approached the chair next to him. I dropped my books onto the small table and felt a sudden wave of awkwardness. His sloppy posture improved when I sat down. For the first ten minutes neither of us said anything. I was vigorously writing down notes about Romeo and Juliet as our teacher spoke, but he just sat there in a fixed position and gazed out the window. It was awfully cold, and the leaves on the grass outside were blowing around in the wind. I finally broke the silence. I cleared my throat, although I don’t know why, and whispered, “hey, aren’t you taking down the notes?”

His head whipped around and his eyes met mine. They were a dark brown, same as mine. He flashed a goofy smile. ‘Katie Jakeman, pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, after going to school together for four years.” He paused. I didn’t know how to reply. Luckily he continued, “I know all about the tragic love of Romeo, the Capulet, and Juliet, the Montague. I don’t need to scribble it down in my book.”

“Actually, it’s the other way around,” I say. He stares at me. “Juliet is from the Capulet family, and Romeo-” I stopped mid sentence because he turned to look out the window again. 

After a minute of observing the exciting life outside the classroom, he turned back to me and, while watching Mrs Jarvis, whispered, “can I have your number?” It took me by surprise, but I guess that meant he liked me, which was, well, flattering. I ripped out a page in my notebook and wrote my number down. He half smiled and tapped it into his phone. The classroom was silent, except for our teacher droning on about the tragedy she shared so closely to Romeo and Juliet of having a lost love. Suddenly I felt a vibration in my pocket, followed by a loud ring of my phone. The majority of the class stared at me as my cheeks reddened. I quickly pulled out my Iphone which revealed the caller. Just a jumble of numbers unfamiliar to me. Mrs Jarvis cleared her throat and stared at me. “Miss Jakeman, turn it off now, and see me after class”. The ringing stopped and she turned back to the whiteboard. My peers lost interest quickly. Daniel Cherry didn’t look at me, but I watched as he slyly shoved his phone into his pocket.