How I Heal

one

I knew I wanted nothing to do with the new boy the minute he came into my field of vision.

I watched him, an annoyed expression on my face as he clicked the side of his pen from black to red.

Why did people even buy pens like that?

What purpose did the other colors serve?

His fore finger and thumb lay adjacent to the side of his head, a bored expression filling his features as the teacher began talking. He looked so unwilling to be present, so unwilling to be anywhere that didn't result in his solitude.

His evergreen stare was almost devastating. One could tell he was ice cold in his persona, for his very stare  was in itself ice.

I was almost sure if he was anymore disinterested, the room would have frozen solid under his glare.

These series of events led me to believe that no matter what, we would never get along.

I never liked people who made themselves known in a way that wasn't obvious.

You could tell he wasn't very obedient because when 30 whole minutes passed, he made his way through the front door as if he did nothing wrong.

Not only did he not apologize for his misconduct, but he walked in, an oblivious look that anybody could tell he practiced on the way here, and a mere shrug as the teacher asked why he was only just arriving.

I didn't know what exactly bothered me about his persona. Maybe it was his obvious disregard or the way he could pretend that the girl seated to his right wasn't ogling him. It could have even been the way he pursed his lips in the straightest line, but I saw him and I knew-

I knew it would be a hard time as long as he was around.

My thought chain lost a sudden link as my teacher blinked me back to reality.

I saw Mr. Turner place his hands on his desk gently before muttering "you're all free to go."

I grabbed my binder, pushing loose papers in, taking care not to bend or rip them.

My two best friends walked up to me, a comical look plastered on their faces and I knew something was up.

"Fun fact," Henrietta said, once she came into view. "Did you know it only takes 30 seconds for someone to drown?"

"Wait, really?" Henry asked, turning to look at her with the most shocked expression on his face.

I looked at the twins briefly sparing them an incredulous glance before continuing to fix my papers.

"This one isn't a fact," Henrietta continued. "But if I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were staring down that stranger the entire session."

Instinctively, I looked at him, watching as he stood up from his desk.

I saw him walk out in an almost soundless step, the slight cough that left his mouth the only indication that he was still present at all.

To drown. I thought. That must be a painful way to go out. The chest restraint. The struggle. The feeling of knowing you weren't going to be able to save yourself.

I wondered what it felt like to drown.

"Good thing you know better," I whispered more to myself, slinging my schoolbag over my shoulder.

Henry looked between us, a strange look on his face before he broke out into a wide grin.

It was cute how immune he was to our girl talk.

"On a lighter note," he mumbled. "We're still on later today right?"

I gave him a close mouthed smile before saying, "of course" and telling the twins bye.

They waved simultaneously before giving each other a look of disgust.

They hated when they accidentally did things together, even though they were already nothing alike.

I laughed lightly before leaving them and making my way to my next class.

____

When school ended, the new boy somehow made his way back into my peripheral vision.

He looked emotionless, dead even, as herds of people tried their best to interact with him.

He gave them knit eyebrows that followed solid, expressionless lips, and that look alone told you he didn't like people, as much as they seemed to like him.

He seemed to only pretend to listen to the words that came out of the mouths of others, and it was odd how nobody seemed to detect his disinterest.

It was way too obvious how much he hated the attention, but regardless of that fact, he didn't turn anyone away.

I rolled my eyes wondering why it had to be World War III every time someone new came to our school.

The funny thing was, the individual either never fed into the attention or never met the crowds expectation, so by a week of them being present, nobody really seemed to care about them as much.

I chuckled, knowing it wouldn't be different with this boy, whatever his name was.

I walked through the hallway trying to get to the exit, praying that we would not interact.

Alas, my cries were not heard, because we somehow managed to make eye contact for an awkward three seconds.

I tore my eyes away first, a sign to let him know it was a mere accident.

I left immediately, something like a chill running through my body. 

I knew I'd never speak of it,
But the unrest I felt for that brief three seconds, had me thinking.

I almost swore I felt my chest tighten for less than a millisecond, but at the same time, I wondered if that was it.

I wondered if that was what it felt like to drown.