The sandwich that Pamela has prepared for me lies limp on the cafeteria table as I stare it down. It contains some sort of meat and some undistinguishable sauce. I finally look away, losing the staring contest with my inedible sandwich and awkwardly catch a glimpse at the table where the Mike guy is sitting. He is laughing at some joke his friend, whom still remains nameless to me, has just said and my breath catches in my throat as he, in between fits of laughter, raises a questioning eye at me.
I scratch at the scar on my face and block my view of him. I grab my uneaten lunch and pick up my bag as well as I swiftly make my exit from the cafeteria. I throw Pamela’s odd especial sandwich into the trash bin and make a grab at the door that leads to the courtyard. I stop shortly when I hear someone’s hurried footsteps behind me. I cautiously look back and am not surprised to see the Mike guy.
“Hey,” he says, while sticking his hands in his jean pockets, the whole act of him almost running to catch up to me completely forgotten, as he tries to look composed. “Not hungry?”
I follow his gaze to the garbage bin that shows the brown paper bag that the unmentionable sandwich is in. “No, I’m not in the mood to eat.”
“You know,” he grabs the door handle that I had forgotten about and opens it, letting in a blinding amount of fall sunshine. “Pamela isn’t as bad as you think. Her cooking isn’t bad either.”
“I’m sure.” I say and walk through the door, shielding my eyes with my empty left hand.
He follows me and after a while of looking around finally finds a suitable patch of grass to sit on. “She is, and this school?” He makes a sweeping gesture as I cautiously join him on the grass, “This school isn’t so bad either. Sure the kids are a little nosy, but then again, we aren’t a big community so we get curious when someone new arrives—someone new with no back-story what so ever.”
His dark brown eyes are sending me messages that perhaps I still can’t understand, but slowly I feel myself… He meets my eyes and I beg myself to look away but I can’t, I do not have the will to close my eyes and ignore it all. Ignore how my heart is thudding in my chest; ignore how he has been making me feel since the time that I had confessed to him how I thought of myself as someone strange. I close my eyes in the end, but not to look away or to ignore, or to forget; I close my eyes simply to wait.
She is beautiful. The way her soft scar gives her face character, the way her eyes hide such emotion that her mouth shall, perhaps never, speak aloud; her beauty everyday astounds me. I have never found myself so deep into my emotions as I have with Jenna, not even Sammy, who had been my object of desire for the last two years. Jenna’s short, black hair is swaying briefly in the timid afternoon wind and I unknowingly wipe at a strand that has drifted onto her face. I, being fearful of how she would react, do not linger on touching her face, but she does not open her eyes.
The world around me goes black and white as I move forward and gently brush my aching lips upon hers. They are warmer than they appear and her pulse softly quickens under my fingertips on her neck.
The day that I kissed Jenna Louise for the first time was the day that everything changed. The day when I think I may have become who I am now, that day is our secret.
Jenna Louise, how I wish you could see, how much I love you.