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Jules had already begun to wrap her book. Her thin fingers carefully measured the folds and creased them attentively. She pressed the side of her thumb’s knuckle across the crease to make sure it took. She did this for all four sides of the cover but on the fourth crease accidentally gave herself a paper cut. The shared pain was sharp and intense and made me jump when she did. The throb subsided when she brought her knuckle to her tongue to soothe the ache. She looked over at me briefly, knowing full well I felt the slice.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, breathing heavily from the realization rather than the laceration.
She turned back to her task. Jules was the only one who wrapped her book inside out so the paper would be blank and she could draw on it later. When she was done, I threw a dorky smile her way, and copied her, but for a very different reason. I took out my pen and wrote on the top of the cover in very small letters, bracing myself for the long fight it was going to take to erase whatever idea she had of who I was and what I wanted her to be to me.
Hi.
What do you want Elliott?
Can we talk?
About what?
You know what.
About your following me to Koan’s?
I DID NOT follow you to Koan’s.
Right.
Exactly. I am right. It was a coincidence. Boy, you must think the world revolves around you.
I do not! Don’t try to make me appear as if I’m imagining things. I’ve noticed you watching me.
How would you even know that Jules? If you weren’t watching me as well?
It’s Julia, Elliott. Class is about to start. I don’t have time for your games.
She turned to her own notebook. I wrote and shoved the cover into her face.
Are we ever going to talk about what happened the first day of school?
She hesitated, but at last answered me.
I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Jules.
My name is Julia, not Jules, Elliott. How many times do I have to tell you?
I know that but I like Jules. I’ve noticed I’m the only one who calls you that. It makes me a part of you that only we share.
She wasn’t expecting that answer and I could see when her eyes widened then quickly narrowed that she wasn’t exactly adverse to the idea. Whew.
What’s your motivation?
I have to have a motivation to talk to you?
Boys like you always have a motivation.
Boys like me, huh? You’ve never struck me as the type who read into stereotypes Jules. I didn’t know you were such a snob.
I’m the snob? Spare me.
What about the first day of school, huh? Did I act like a snob then? It seems to me that you’re the one who’s the snob. You’ve avoided me like the plague. You see me coming and you run the other direction. I’ve gotten the cold shoulder from you for the past three weeks.
