THAT boy.

I never did notice that boy.

The one who lived across the street from me. My mother would always ask me why I didn't go play with him, I just said he didn't like me. I didn't think he much liked anyone, he had no friends, surely if he liked people he'd have friends.

I never noticed the way he would stop laughing as soon as he started, if you could get him to, acting as if he'd done something wrong. Or how he would flinch if the teacher started yelling, even if it wasn't at him.

I never noticed how he would swing by himself, because Spencer and I were too caught up playing cowboys and space men.

I didn't notice how even in middle school he only ever spoke when spoken to, never raising his hand.

He was just there, in the background of our preteen years. Then people started to notice him.

He was the tall kid,the skinny kid, the shy kid.

He was the boy who didn't have any friends.

But again, he just doesn't like people right?

Then high school rolled around.

He was now the kid with bruises, the kid who always wore long sleeves.

The boy who kept his head down.

Yet I never once noticed him.

I never noticed the way he walked with a limp some days, or the way he tugged at his hair when he couldn't figure out an answer he'd been chosen to give.

I didn't notice when he would miss weeks of school at a time.

I never noticed how he would cringe when Mr.Farlow told him to stay after class.

He was the boy who always had his headphones in, even in class.

But i never noticed him.

Sophomore year came and my mom wanted to know why we never see him hang out with his friends.

I told her that he didn't have any. She had me take him cookies. His dad answered, an angry scowl on his face.

"My mother wanted you to have these." I had said politely.

The angry man had given a huff and retreated back into his house.

I told my mother about the interaction and she had given me a worried glance before telling me to wash up for dinner because she was inviting them.

I had walked down stairs to see the invisible boy and his angry dad seated at our dining room table. I had observed that man looked less grumpy, but I never noticed the boy had a hoodie on atop some black pants.

Such simple details that I had never noticed.

The dinner had been awkward and long, but soon enough they were making there way out of our house.

I didn't notice the way the dad dragged his son roughly by his wrist so that the boy wouldn't run off.

Throughout the summer after sophomore year, there were many things I didn't notice, but there was one thing I did notice, at the every end of the summer, and it was perhaps, one of the most important things.

It was an ambulance.

It parked in the lawn of the house across the street, and the boy was rushed out on a gurney.

The news spread like butter on toast and soon everyone was talking about the invisible boy.

"Did you hear about the suicidal boy?"

"Hm?"

"The one who tried to kill himself."

"Who?"

"You know, the boy."

"Oh, THAT boy."

I was plagued with nightmares almost every day that week, but I don't know why.

I never noticed that the boy was crying when he returned from what I could only assume had been a hospital stay.

I never noticed how sad his eyes looked every day.

I never noticed the way he would only smile when I acknowledged him with a head nod.

I never saw the way he scrawled my name in beautiful cursive on an envelope that night. I never saw how much he needed me.

I, never noticed THAT boy.

But we all did, in a way. He was THAT boy.

And no matter how many things I never noticed, there are a few I did. One of which was on the first day of college. I had yet to meet my room mate, when a boy a few inches taller than I opened the door to help me with my bags.

"Hello, my name is Dallon, and I used to live across the street from you."