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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

The silent guy in the class suddenly begins to change, capturing the attention of smart girl Denisé who's unsure of what's going to happen next. (Maybe there will be some chemistry but the story's incomplete so only time will tell.)

“That's how we all want it... Simple, right?” I say looking around the partially empty and asleep class.

“I mean if you're anything like me then that's all you want. All those spoilt kids or people who've always had that probably focus more on searching for something worth fighting for or going through challenges for.” I watch as Johnny's head falls with his eyelids. I hide a smile as he jerks awake awkwardly looking around self-conscious.

“I want everything to be simple.” 

Cathy, cohort princess, giggles loudly in the back corner, long eyelashes fluttering shamelessly. Arm draped around the arm of the school footy star,  Chris Sanders.

I walk back thinking about the words I had scribbled off my speech yesterday morning: ‘Finding someone decent to date and eventually marry. Finding textbooks, ball gowns, food. Making something yummy and nutritious. Being less selfish.’ I'm glad I made that decision as I flick to the next slide. This speech is boring for everyone. The teacher sits pretending to listen although not hiding her loud tapping on the keys of her laptop. I know she'll give me a good grade anyway.

I clear my throat and continue. “This need and longing for simplicity is one of the many factors that has inspired many inventions and will continue to inspire until the end of human existence. Thank you for listening.” 

A counterfeit clap resounds and the teacher looks up. “Thank you, Denisé, for that beautiful presentation. Your use of the antique typewriter was ingenious. Does anyone have any question?” 

After a quick glance around the class I start packing up. No one would ask questions. That's how it always has been. I carefully place my grandmother's typewriter into an insulated and cushioned box, when I hear a quiet voice towards the far left of the classroom.

The quiet blonde looks up, long hair shading his face, “Uh, actually I have a question. When you were speaking about the growth of technology...” he pauses seeming to search his memory. “...inventions throughout the 1900s, you mentioned that a lot of the...”

I answer his question, glancing at the teacher to see the same mildly shocked expression that had previously been stitched to my face. 

I don't even know the kid's name and I guess I don't even know what he looks like beyond his thick curtains. He's been in my class for two years and I've never heard him or seen him anywhere else.

I gather my things and take my seat at the front.

The teacher recovers from her state of shock and calls up the next five students who, of course, havn't even started making the presentation after having known about it for a week. A deep frown settles in the teachers expression. She shakes her head disappointed before looking back down at the list. “Daniel, I'll talk to you later about you presentation.” she says, glancing at the blonde.

The bell rings almost on cue and there's a rush of students and chairs before I even have the chance to stand. I swing my bag onto my back and grip the box as I head out the door. Daniel, the blonde, is still packing away his things when I glance back.


The following day, I stand outside my history class when the blonde mop comes around the corner. I watch him approach. It's strange since normally I'm the only one on time for my classes. 

His hair hangs in his face covering the majority of it. He looks up for a brief moment and I catch a glimpse of dark ocean eyes. 

At that instant the teacher rounds the corner, her keys clicking and shoes tapping against the cement. Again her face displays a look of surprise at the sight of Daniel. “Sorry I didn't come earlier. Let's get in the class, ” she exclaims jovially. 

We take our seats, pulling out our notebooks.

“You know, I was actually thinking that maybe we should have more collaboration in this class. It might make the class interesting for a change.” The teacher states, setting up her computer. “Would you too mind being on the same group? Maybe both of can sit where Denisé is?” 

Taking that as an instruction, Daniel gathers his stuff and moves to sit at the same table. Other people begin to file into the class, Cathy last, laughing loudly.



Submitted: March 24, 2021

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