I talked to him today.

Well, perhaps talk is too big of a word.

We exchanged a few words. (But isn't that what talking is either way?)

I pretended to be lost and asked him where room thirty-three was.

He looked at me. He looked at me like I was a thing he'd never been before. Not brand and shiny new, but something on the side of the road. 

Still new, though.

 I tried to lock my smile far, far away. Just look normal, I told myself, squeezing my books to my chest. 

It's over by the science block, he said. 

Leather jacket. That's what he wore. Black hair. A walking cliché.

I nodded when he said that, even though I already knew. 

He looked bored. I wasn't interesting enough. My books were crushing my chest. 

Say something interesting.

Umm. 

What's your name, by the way? That's all I came up with.

He narrowed his eyes.

'Isayah.'

'Okay.'

Ask for mine, Isayah. What's my name? I was melting, melting, turning into a puddle right in front of him, and he didn't even notice.

Step in me. I wouldn't mind.

(I wonder if Isayah means anything)

'Okay, cool.' That's all he said.

He walked away.

***

Maybe I should go home and polish my skin a bit more.

Make it shiny, shiny, shiny.