Immediately, she recognized the sandy blonde hair and brown messenger bag as the boy who had so mysteriously stared at her in class that morning. He was writing in the same notebook as before, but this time was using a red pen instead of black. It looked as though he was writing on the same page as he had previously—not editing the page, but writing directly over the black words with different ones in red. As he had in class, the boy seemed to recognize the feeling of her stare and stopped writing. Evelynn was half-tempted to look back at her book and pretend she hadn’t been wondering what he was doing, but the boy interested her too much to turn away. He set his pen down and looked over at her. His green eyes gave her the same penetrating look as before, and Evelynn felt sure he could hear her thoughts through his eyes. She didn’t look away from him, and he held her gaze.
Tentatively, she spoke up, “What are you writing?” Evelynn thought her voice sounded strange. She wasn’t used to talking to guys, let alone complete strangers. And it was a bold question to ask right off the bat. She easily could have started with “Hey weren’t you in my psychology class this morning?” or “Do I know you from somewhere?” Something normal at least. But Evelynn was starting off this semester to take risks and step out of her comfort zone. That’s what she’d told herself before she walked into the classroom this morning anyway.
The boy didn’t seem fazed by her question, but he didn’t answer her either. Instead, he picked up his notebook and handed it to her. She set down her book and reached out to grab it. She’d been correct in thinking that he was writing over the black with red. It was a mess of letters and words that Evelynn couldn’t really make out. She peered at the page in front of her for several seconds then, with a glance at the boy who was watching her intently, flipped through the previous pages. They were all the same jumbled mess of overlapping writing in various colors as the page she’d seen him working on just moments before. She turned back to the current page and tried to make out what he was writing. Not only did the overlapping writing make it confusing, but the boy’s handwriting was difficult to make out as well. Evelynn couldn’t make much of anything out, so she handed the notebook back to the boy. He accepted it but continued to look at her silently.
Tentatively, she spoke up, “What are you writing?” Evelynn thought her voice sounded strange. She wasn’t used to talking to guys, let alone complete strangers. And it was a bold question to ask right off the bat. She easily could have started with “Hey weren’t you in my psychology class this morning?” or “Do I know you from somewhere?” Something normal at least. But Evelynn was starting off this semester to take risks and step out of her comfort zone. That’s what she’d told herself before she walked into the classroom this morning anyway.
The boy didn’t seem fazed by her question, but he didn’t answer her either. Instead, he picked up his notebook and handed it to her. She set down her book and reached out to grab it. She’d been correct in thinking that he was writing over the black with red. It was a mess of letters and words that Evelynn couldn’t really make out. She peered at the page in front of her for several seconds then, with a glance at the boy who was watching her intently, flipped through the previous pages. They were all the same jumbled mess of overlapping writing in various colors as the page she’d seen him working on just moments before. She turned back to the current page and tried to make out what he was writing. Not only did the overlapping writing make it confusing, but the boy’s handwriting was difficult to make out as well. Evelynn couldn’t make much of anything out, so she handed the notebook back to the boy. He accepted it but continued to look at her silently.
