Letter 2: “Over Me”

As I said, Emily was quite tall, she stood maybe an inch taller than me, but since she wearing some form of heels and I in Birks, she seemingly towered above my head. Most guys would’ve counted that against her, in fact, most did, but she didn’t seem to care. In fact, nothing really seemed to bother her and I seriously wanted to find out why she never seemed to frown, why was she so happy.

Well, maybe she did frown sometimes, because she did at that night’s football game.
I failed to mention that she didn’t have a coat, just a long-sleeved shirt. I handed over my jacket, exposing my bare and and scarred arms to the bitter cold.
“You don’t have to give me that.”
“I do, you look cold.”
“But then you will.” She said as she put it on. I had no intentions at that time, I just thought she looked cold and it was the proper thing to for someone.
“No, I’ve lived in upper Michigan. We’re good.” I lied, as I felt a small shiver, but held my hands over the fire as the wind blew and the warmth covered me for a split second.

At that moment, the pep band started warming up, causing the crowd to clap as the game was starting.

Either that, or they were all clapping to stay warm.
Needless to day, the con session stand ran out of coffee and hot chocolate before the band played “The Banner”.

On the following Monday, I realized she was in my Algebra class, and that she sat three seats behind me. I still can’t believe that I never paid attention to her all of that time. I mean, there was a reason: I assumed that no one wanted to talk to me so I didn’t try. For all I knew, she—or anyone else for that matter—may have tried to talk to me but I ignored them. I still kind of felt that way on that Monday morning, until she walked up to me.

“Can I keep this for the rest of the day? I heard the shop class is kind of cold today.”
“Of course,” I replied, completely oblivious to the signals she was giving me.

I took some time to really notice her and less time on how people looked at my arm. It finally dawned on me three hours later that I had willingly given my jacket up for an entire weekend and that Monday morning. For some reason, I gave up my security blanket to someone I barely knew. I should have reacted like a toddler whose ballon had popped; desperately clawing at her to get it back and to become invisible to the world. My lack of a cloak didn’t bother me until that moment and I through if I put my arms under my shirt, no one will notice.

But they would.

I counted to ten in my mind.

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths.

Tried to remember that everyone was not out to get me.

I made it to my locker and regretted that I couldn’t fit inside of it.

“Kyle!”
I froze at the voice and lowered my head down, as I didn’t recognize it. No one ever called me by my name unless it was a teacher.

“Hey,” the voice stood next to me. I turned to see Emily, who lowered her head down to meet my bowed stance. “Want to go to the store with me?” She actually didn’t wait for an answer but instead held her hand out. I nodded and weakly took ahold of her fingers. Emily responded by tightly grasping my hand and wrist.

Our school had an open campus, so we were allowed to leave and walk to the store down the street instead of bringing a brown bag lunch or eating int the cafeteria. There were some times where the privilege was almost revoked due to some people getting in their cars and driving or others leaving trash on the side of the road: the residents in the houses that lined the street from the school to the store would report the litterbugs but could never give a name so everyone would receive the collective punishment.

I walked besides Emily in silence.
“So, you don’t find this strange at all?”
“Strange, no, I find it interesting, a bit scary and kind of wondering if I’m on one of those hidden camera shows.”
“No cameras. I’m the one who feels scared.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Come on, you walk up to someone in full hope that they want to talk to you and you have this oh no crazy story as why you’re doing it and you hope he doesn’t pull his hand away and walks away.”
“What’s your story?” I asked.
“I had a dream about you.”
“You did?” I would have assumed it was a nightmare.
“Yeah, I was standing in the middle of green field, so I guess it was in the spring, and not now.”
Emily pointed at the leaf-barren trees. “And it started raining and I didn’t run for cover. I just stood there in the downfall. It rained and rained until I could see a reflection in the water.”
She stopped and took both of my hands.
“I saw you and I thought that someone was telling me to find you, to take your hand, and to tell you everything. ”
“Interesting.”
“I said that when I woke up too.”

I was conflicted at that moment. On one hand, it was weird to hear someone talking to me like I would talk to them. I actually had dreams about certain people, but I would never tell them because they would have screamed to nearest teacher and I would find myself in a locked a padded room, which actually would have been a good idea now that I think about it.

The other hand was that I really wanted to believe her, but I was pretty sure that she was doing this to be nice or to report to someone else about how gullible I was.

I wanted to ask, but it was like a dream for me too.
I didn’t want to wake from it.

What would you have done?

—signed Kyle Jovankah