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Kyra Kristmanson


I remember every day I spent in high school.  I sat on the floor, shunned by everyone, just watching them walk by in their little cliques.  You see, my parents decided to move us a week before my first day of high school.  I was a shy kid.  I always sat at the back of class, and I always paid attention.  Needless to say, I didn’t make friends easily. 

I remember waking up every day telling myself, “Today is the day.  Today I’ll get some friends.  I’ll march right up to a random group, and introduce myself.  Or maybe I’ll just sit beside somebody!  That’ll be less intrusive.”

I spent the entirety of grades eight to eleven pushing my goal aside.  When I eventually got to grade twelve, I gave up.  I figured, why bother?  One year left…  I could make friends in college.  Friends take up study time anyway.

That’s when I met him.  Well… not really ‘met’ him.  It was more along the lines of crashing into him in the hallway and knocking over his lunch… and mine.  He didn’t say anything.  He didn’t swear at me, or call me a klutz.  He just picked up the mess, and walked away.  I was awestruck.  I stood in silence, standing over my spilt lunch.  It took me over a minute to realize people were laughing at me.  I practically sprinted out of the cafeteria and into the girl’s bathroom.  Oddly enough, I wasn’t even embarrassed.  I was more entranced by the lingering image of his sea green eyes.

Over the next few weeks, I noticed him everywhere.  I saw him at least five times a day, always smiling with his group of friends.  He had an odd sort of look to him, like he was constantly concentrating.  I loved it.

I became obsessed with the idea of meeting him.  I spent almost every waking moment of my life dreaming up scenarios of how we would bump into each other and have an amazing conversation, leading to us finding out we’re perfect for one another.  I knew I was probably crazy.  I never thought of myself as the girl next door.  I was more like the girl down the street.  Sure, I was slender, with good skin, and had pretty nice hair, but I never thought I’d be pretty enough to have a boyfriend.

Months past and I started to give up on the idea of ‘happily ever after with prince charming.’  The next semester was starting, and I had more pressing matters to attend to.  Graduation was approaching fast, and I needed to focus.

I found myself running late for my first day of semester two classes.  My heart pounded in my chest as I thought of what my teacher’s reaction would be.  Would I be humiliated?  Or worse, would I have to sit at the front of the class?

I walked casually into the class room, trying to remain calm.  I quickly apologized to the teacher, who told me to take a seat.  That’s when I saw him.  He was sitting in the only desk with a free spot beside it.  I felt like I was going to melt.  He lifted his head and met my staring gaze.  I tried to tear my eyes away but I couldn’t.  I was transfixed.  He gestured to the chair beside him, not saying a word.  I nodded in thanks, and made my way to the seat. 

I felt myself starting to sweat as the teacher began to talk.  I kept looking over at him.  I couldn’t help myself.  Thankfully, he didn’t notice.  I saw him jotting down something on a piece of paper.  I didn’t want to look like a snoop, so I turned my attention towards the lesson.

After a few moments, I felt him put something in front of me on the desk.  I looked down, and saw three beautiful words.

Hey, I’m Jeremy.

I quickly grabbed my pen and began writing down a reply.  I made my printing look as neat and pretty as I possibly could.  After a moment, I looked at the masterpiece I had created, and then passed the paper back to him.  I had chosen a simple reply, instead of the lengthy ones I had dreamed up in my scenarios.  It only said:

Hi, I’m Emma.

The conversation that followed lasted my entire block A class.  I didn’t write down a single note on the lesson.  We parted at the end of class, and went our separate ways to our next block.  All I could think about was his name.  It matched him so perfectly.  Jeremy.


Weeks and weeks passed.  I found myself standing in front of the mirror every morning telling myself things again.  I felt amazing, every day I went to school.  I refused to miss a day, or be late.  I didn’t want to miss a single moment with him.

Our routine continued, taking out a piece of paper, jotting down thoughts and questions.  We got to know each other without saying a word.  I watched him sit for a moment, and stare at the paper.  He was thinking.  I wondered what he could possibly be contemplating, for my last response simply said: I love oranges!

When he finally handed back the paper, I almost screamed in excitement at what he had written.  I clutched the paper in my hand and stared at the ink marks on the page.  I felt myself smiling ear to ear.  Jeremy had written: Would you care to join me for lunch?  I simply replied with: I’d love to.


I met him that day for lunch, and I had the best time of my life.  I ended up going steady with Jeremy.  We went to prom together, went to the same college, eventually got married and had three children of our own.  I’m old now, and Jeremy is long gone.  We went our entire life not speaking a word to each other.  Simply writing notes and using body language.  Communication was never a problem between us, and neither of us ever lied to one another.  When you learn to read body language, you know how the person truly feels.

I remember all those other girls, and all of their boyfriends.  The friends I eventually made were married, divorced, and remarried.  They were unhappy with their spouses.

They may have had the ability to speak and hear, unlike Jeremy, who was deaf.  However, I firmly believe, actions speak louder than words.

Created: Jul 07, 2012


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