He was charming. They told me he didn’t speak english. That was crap.
I sat next to him in class. He never took notes, or raised his hand.
He and his friend talked to each other instead of listening to the teacher. I think they were talking about me. It was in a foreign language.
Finally, my time had come. He didn’t have a textbook. I offered to share mine.
“Study hall?” He asked pointing to his schedule.
“No,” I shook my head shyly. “I don’t have study hall with you.” He looked frustrated and babbled rapidly in a tongue unknown to me. In a frenzy, he wrote on a piece of paper: This class have book? “No. You do work from the rest of the day. Or rather, that’s what you’re supposed to do. Most people don’t.” He smiled at me.
“Lunch 2?” I nodded with a small smile.
“Yeah, do you want to sit with me?”