As a freshman
in a new school, Go decided that the way to eventually talk to the most-adorable
classmate (who they had yet-to notice or even recognize the potential identity of) was to memorize the full names of
every person in the entire class. To start with some anyone sitting nearby, in
First-Period Homeroom, and to later decide if the project was worth
continuing; that was Go's mental outline of a preliminary sketch. And
if it "grew legs of its own" that would depend on factors outside today's
control, Go thought, sitting down at their assigned classroom table.
"Hi, I'm Gogh
Ahn; I've got this new project. To memorize everyone's full name in the
freshman class. Can you help?"
The buckteeth
with fingerprint smudges on their glasses smiled up from the scrolling flicker
under their chin and replied, "Ok. So, my name is Bill Lawler.
It's actually William, but I've been called 'Bucky Billy' for so long it's
stuck-on and I hate it. So. Whatcha'gonnado?"
"Will-Yam
Law-Ler. No nicknames. Yer not a Law-Yer. What's a favorite
thing of yours? Something you'd prefer to be doing?" Go smiled and
listened. Hands folded. Not fidgeting.
"Drinking a
caffeinated drink. But I'm supposed to be Mormon; so, I'd rather my
family didn't know. So, if you were to take a cold-one out of that
backpack, I'd haveta decline because there are spies in our midst!"
William's voice lowered, eyes shifted, and shoulders hunched in an
exaggerated-miming manner. "In visual-range, there are at-least two
potential snitches - ahh, fellow parishioners - who know one or more of too-many
backstabbing siblings."
Go's smile
became a silent laugh. "Nice, nice. William Lawler, nicknames
none, Mormon drinking a Monster drink." Also pretending subterfuge, Go
murmured, "If those spies were fellow freshman, would you happen to know any
of their full names? For my memorization assignment?"
"So.
Sarah Turner is the dimples you can only see in profile, the one who's reading
an actual paperback at the corner table. They spell their name
different though."
"Interesting
detail."
"But I don't
mean surface-level different. So, they go by some letter combination
that sounds slightly similar to s.a.r.a.h but I don't remember what it
is. Sounds almost like Za-eR-ha! Their giggles combined and danced
together briefly. Once it subsided, William continued, "But, so's you
know: they'll certainly re-tell you how it's pronounced. Every time you
say their name. Even if you are positively certain your pronunciation is
identical."
"Let me see if
I got this right: Asperger's Sarah-with-a-Z re-reads paperbacks.
Anyone else?" Their giggles reunited for a second or two.
"Um yep.
Behind our backs. Gerry. But I don't know if that's short for
anything, Gerry Smythe. They prefer to whisper."
"Come again?"
Go whispered, quieter-now, and started another giggle-back.
"So, Gerry can
yell and holler and talk just as loud as, like, everyone. Outside.
Inside, they only whisper." The shrug of William's shoulders and
straight face said: no shit.
"Geraldine
Smythe's inside voice . . . is . . ." Go turned it into a
question. And, as William whispered, "a secret," their giggles reignited
and, eventually, subsided.
Go listened
during attendance. The highly-paid adult babysitter with permanently-sad
eyes, like a basset hound's, eventually got around to: "Gerry Smythe" and they
replied with a nominally shushed de-escalating *here* (with the
don't-wanna-be part, silent). Because it was low-volume, it
sounded more like an exhale after a deep breath. After a few other
names, sad-eyes said: "Sar-a-turn-er." The paperback switched hands,
right hand was raised and they said, "Tsaa. Raa." without even a tinge of
sigh.
"We allowed to
get up and sit anywhere after attendance?" Go asked.
"Depends." William said without taking
eyes off the flicker. "There are some who always show up late and one of
them is Bert. Bert Frank. They drive." Eyes raised, they
locked on to Go's, as they said, "A sixteen year old Freshman who will
definitely tell you to get out of their seat. Especially if it really is theirs."
"Where is that
seat in which no one sits but Voldemort?" Go snickered.
"In the back
with the outcasts and ostracized." William nodded his head toward the
farthest-from-the door and most distance from sad-eyes' location.
"Is there a
way of making a distinction?" Go wondered quietly aloud; when William
didn't follow, they clarified, "between the ostracized and the outcasts?"
"oh, so..."
William replied as if this was commonly known-to-all in this school,
"Outcast's choose who they are. We choose who to ostracize.
Reindeer games, all of it. Why? Do you want to sit back there?"
"How else am I
going to memorize the names of the entire class? Unless I talk to
people?"
"You can ask
the other person next to you!
Gina-who-has-been-listening-to-us-talk-this-whole-time. They are running
for some class leadership position. So, as a future politician, they'll
pretend to play along, even if they think memorizing everyone's name is a crazy
project." William's voice didn't lower at all at this point, so Go was
positive they were right about Gina Knottswald (who'd earlier said 'present').
"Is William
right, Gina?" Go asked while swivelling slightly in the chair.
"Hi,
Gogh. Pleased to make your acquaintance," Gina pronounced it in
Flemish like sad-eyes had done. Go focused on nose freckles beginning to
spread across cheeks as they continued with a wonderfully relaxed no-nonsense-neighbor voice, "Yes. Mostly right. Only
I'm not running for a political office this year. I'm running for Class
Safety Officer."
"Is there
stiff competition for that position?" Go asked, eagerly waiting for the reply.
"Not
really. But that's because . . . " then their body posture changed as if
they just reminded themself of the reason not much competition existed . . .
others . . . could also run for election . . . but they were unaware of some key-crucial element. "Ahh sorry. Campaigning is not my strong
suit. You're not really interested. Right? You've got enough
to memorize my name, don't you?"
"Gina
Knotswald. Tight-lipped about safety . . . It doesn't have the hold-fast
to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the other hundreds of other names I'm going
to have to memorize. Not yet. How about if I promise not to tell
anyone - including not-my-lawyer-William Lawler - and, instead, I provide
campaign advice when-and-if you ask for it?" Go could tell Gina liked
the idea; especially because William 'acted hurt' when overhearing they'd be
excluded.
Gina
leaned-in. Go turned their favorite ear towards the direction of the increasing smell of spicy-sweet candy like ginger and cinnamon-breath as whispers
mesmerized, *safety officer assigns and supervises the crossing guards, the
color guard, and the hallway monitors.*
The pause in sibilants asmr-ing was longer than one
breath, as-if that was a fully-sufficient explanation, but Go wanted them to not stop, so a shirk of shoulders and a tiny pout with a
shake-of-head kept them going.
*crossing guards are excused from homeroom; are
excused to leave fourth-period before lunch; are excused from arriving late to
fifth-period; and are excused to leave seventh-period early; hallway monitors
require monitoring throughout the day, the safety officer never needs a
hall-pass; annnnd, the supply room near the wood-shop is where the flags and
uniforms and vests and stop-signs and extra hall passes are kept. The
safety officer has a key and a desk in there. Actually, it is where the
custodial staff can take breaks, but they either don't take breaks or have a
quieter place than the one next to the wood-shop.*
Go began to
tip-raise the ear and turn, while murmuring, "Gina Knottswald is . . ."
But Gina encouraged returning the ear for more nearly-silent whispering.
*Gina is short
for Virginia but you know what the asshats teased me with, in
middle-school. I'm, was, just as guilty. I once
deployed 'Bucky-Billy,' and I'm not proud that I once wore my ass for a hat,
too.*
Without turning, Go said, "Whisper asshat for me one more time."
*and then this asshat asked me to whiss-per asshat . . . I swear sarah's dimples send shivers down my silky soft ssanctuary near my spine.*
"Whoa
there! Secret agent Gina Knottswald knowingly wears the safety officer's
hat - great. But, does that last part about you losing your Virginia
count as part of the deal? If it was all-that-teasable it can't still be
a secret." Gina's freckles grouped when she smiled big. It creased
her forehead and her chin.
Go considered
becoming a color guard. Might be nice to be invited to share a private study-hall slash lunchroom with someone who could see the invisible underpinnings and already knew what their place in it would look like.
character's in store:
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