The Silent One

{Two}

I take a deep breath and rest my right cheek in my hand, elbow propped up on the desk. My left hand (yeah, I'm left handed. Big whoop.) traces lines in pencil on the paper in my sketchbook. My music is cranked up loud. People start flooding the room whenever the bell rings. Half of them don't even have this class right now. Typical first day of school.

Eventually, a teacher comes in and the crowd thins. Soon enough, everyone's seated, and Mrs. Hendricks starts her expected "first day of school" speech. I tune her out and start shading in my sketch.

All's dull and boring until a note lands on my desk next to my sketch. I jump so badly my pencil falls to the floor. Mrs. Hendricks glances my way and then continues my speech. I purse my lips and snatch the pencil from the floor. And then, I open the folded note.

The handwriting's messy; almost definitely a guy's. But why is a guy (let alone anyone) giving me a note?

'I like your sketch. Just moved here. What's your name?'

I frown. There's no name.

'Thanks?' I write. 'And you haven't even told me yours. Besides, why would you want to talk to me?'

And then I look around, wondering who this person is and where he is. But before I can figure it out myself, a hand sneaks up and takes the paper out of my hand. My head whips to my left so fast I accidentally yank one of my earphones out. While I'm putting it back in my ear, I look over and see the boy in the seat beside mine, opening the note. He smirks as his eyes scan my words, and then he's writing back.

I take in his disheveled dirty-blond hair and green eyes, wondering just who he is, or will be. Jock? Maybe. Popular? Possibly. Nerd? Likely. Jerk? 50/50 chance. Sweetheart that actually cares? 1/10 of a possibility. But honestly, who cares? He'll probably run away like all the others once he realizes how odd I am. And I'll still be here, tuning out the world and ignoring my past. He can't change that. No one can. Not anymore.

But the note falls into my lap anyways.

And I read it.

'The name's Kevin. Now can I know yours?'

Gosh, this guy is persistent. Why is he trying so hard? Doesn't he know by now how 'weird' I am? Well, if he hasn't he might as well hear it from me.

'You know I don't talk right? Ever. Haven't you heard? So you probably don't want to talk to me. Just saying.'

I toss him the note and return to my sketching. I'm surprised Kevin answers, but he does.

'So? I think it's kind of cool that you don't talk. Most people these days talk too much. Way too much.'

That makes my lips twist up in a smirk. It's true. Most people do talk too much.

I glance up at Mrs. Hendricks to make sure she's still talking. She is.

'Most people don't think so. And yeah, that's true. Very true.'

I toss him the note and glance at the clock. The bell's about to ring.

Kevin hands me the note right as the bell rings, smiles, and then leaves. I turn up the volume on my music, sling my bag over my shoulder, and head out into the halls, unfolding the note as I go. When I claim a seat in my Science class, I read his words.

'Most people are stupid. I don't think you are though. Wanna be Science partners? We're probably in the same class next period.'

Confused, I look around the room. Someone sits in the desk behind me. When I look back, I see Kevin. Huh. I guess we are in the same class.