Marked with Silence

I stared at my doorway long after Sapphira stormed through it. Part of my body was itching for me to run after her, but my brain knew that it would have done no good. A minute later I heard my mom screaming my name, I guessed that not even she could keep Sapphira from leaving. I thought about getting my mom into the car and driving until we saw her, but even for me that seemed too desperate.

It turned out that the surprise my mom had for dinner was Filipino food. She had made white rice and a fish dish, a recipe straight from the cookbook she had made when we were in the Philippines. It made me think of Sapphira the entire time.

I wondered if I had always been so forward—so persistent and so stupid. But then I thought, ‘Is it really that dumb to do what you think is necessary to get what you want?’ In this case, a forced kiss for an amazing girl. I had proved her feelings, but put whatever chance I had in jeopardy. I wasn’t sure that knowing was worth the heavy price.


Sapphira kept her promise. When Mr. Grafter told us to sit next to our partners, she silently slipped the finished project to me.

We were assigned to go fourth. We watched the first three presentations—Brazil, Australia, and Denmark. When Mr. Grafter called us up Sapphira went to Mr. Grafter’s laptop to set up our PowerPoint. I waited for out title slide to appear on the screen

“For our project, we researched the country of the Philippines. It is an archipelago of 7,107of islands located in the Pacific Ocean and is a part of the continent of Asia,” I informed the class from memory.

Sapphira went to the next slide and began talking when a map of the Philippines materialized.

“The country was actually named after the k-“

“Look who suddenly knows how to talk,” I heard a boy in the third row mutter. Some of the class giggled. I looked over at Sapphira—she heard him too.

“Uh…u-um,” She stuttered. And looked down to the cue cards she was tightly gripping in her hands. She continued with a much weaker voice, “The country was named after King Philip II of Spain-“

“Excuse me, Sapphira, but could you speak up? I can’t really hear you,” Mr. Grafter interjected.

She responded with tiny and rapid nods.

“K-king Philip II of Spai-“

“You already said that,” the same boy mumbled.

I wanted to punch him. I looked over at Sapphira and saw that she was blinking very fast and shifting her weight from foot to foot. She was about to cry.

“And um, Spain…uh, Sp-spain—“

“And Spain would prove to have a major impact on the country throughout its history as we will show later on in our presentation,” I finished for her.

She looked up at me, and then to the class, before running out of the room.


I had to finish our entire presentation before going after Sapphira. Mr. Grafter said that that was our only chance to present our project, so I ended up running after Sapphira seven minutes late. I looked up and down the hallway, but she wasn’t in either direction. There was a small girl taking a test in the hallway, who told me that she saw Sapphira go outside.

Sure enough, I saw her perched on top of the short brick wall that lined our school. She must have heard the sound of my Vans against the concrete because she turned around, her face shiny with tears, but her body breathing just fine. I wasn’t sure if that was or wasn’t a good thing.

I silently sat a few inches away from her. To my surprise, she started to talk.

“That was the first time I had to speak in front of the class since I’ve been here. I didn’t think it’d be so hard.”

“That guy was a total jerk.”

She let out a chuckle, “He had a right to be. He really sweetly asked me out a couple times, but I never said a word back.”

I didn’t respond.

“Funny thing is, I used to be a great public speaker. It was just one of those things that came naturally. And look at me now; I can’t even give a PowerPoint Presentation.” She placed her hands over her eyes, “God, I’m such a mess.”

This breakdown was different from the one that she had had in her bedroom. This time she was calm, if that even made any sense. She was having the kind of breakdown where her only tale-tell sign was her tears. And for some reason, I felt like this one was worse than the last.

“I thought you weren’t speaking to me,” I said before I could stop the words from coming out.

She chuckled again, “You don’t know how to keep a good thing, do you?”

I shook my head.

‘Shit, why did I have to go and say that? Why do I keep screwing this up?’ I asked myself.

“You came after me,” she said. “Whether it was out of courtesy or because you really do like me, it doesn’t matter. But you’re still right here next to me even though I’ve been a total bitch to you.”

“I deserved it most of the time,” I refuted.

A smile shadowed her lips, “That is true.”

“Are you mad at me for those times?”

“Oddly,” she shook her head, “no.”

I grinned, and resisted the urge to throw my arms around her. But I didn’t want to be too optimistic. I might have been reading too much into this.

“So what now?” I questioned.

“’What now’ as in, between you and me? Or ‘what now?’ as in going back outside?”

“Preferably the first but I’ll take either.”

I was dying to know how Sapphira and I stood. But impatience had already bitten me in the ass once.

“Well, I’m answering the second. Since that’s our last period of the day today, do you wanna just leave?”

“That doesn’t sound like something you’d do.”

“You don’t know me,” she said. “Even I don’t know who I am since the accident.”

I wondered if it was awkward for her—bringing up her family. If it was, she didn’t let it show.

She jumped down from the wall, and I followed suit. “Just tell Mr. Grafter that I ran out of the classroom since I’m all hormonal from just starting my period and that you’re gonna take me home since I started to have really bad cramps and in too much pain to walk.”

“I don’t even have a car.”

She shrugged, “He doesn’t know that.”

I nodded, not even caring about the trouble I could get in if my parents found out I had left school early.

I opened the door for Sapphira when we came to the school’s entrance.

“Uh, maybe we should play the part,” I suggested. “You can’t go in there walking perfectly fine.”

She nodded. She slipped her arm around my waist and gripped my hip with her hand. “Put your arm around me. Pretend you’re helping me walk.”

I did as demanded, and nervously put my arm around her and slightly held her against my side.

When we entered the history hallway she slouched her upper body against mine and made her face looked pained. She pulled it off so well when we walked into the classroom that Mr. Grafter urged me to get her home as soon as possible.

We walked that way to our lockers, the Attendance Office to sign out, and all the way until we made the turn towards the school parking lot.

“Backpack?” I had been carrying hers the entire time

I shook my head, “It’s not that heavy.”

She shrugged.

“So where to now? Both our houses are in the other direction, and neither of us has a car.”

“There’s a Taco Bell. We can go there for about an hour and then walk home before school lets out.”

“Okay, let me just text my mom to not pick me up.”

I tried not to get too excited. Or at least, I tried not to show it. But it was hard to suppress my hopes. My mind was racing with thoughts of where this new ground we’ve found may lead, so fast that not even the logical part of me could rein them in.

We grabbed a booth once we entered the Taco Bell and sat on opposite sides.

“Do you want anything?” I offered.

She shook her head.

I started to feel awkward. I didn’t want the silence to settle.

“I don’t want to press you,” I began, “but I have to know. Are we friends? More or less than that?”

She was drawing on the table, much like she was on her computer desk when she told me about her family. Sapphira wouldn’t look at me, but kept her eyes fixed on the invisible pictures she was making.

“You know, forced kisses are never romantic. I know that in the movies when the guy take the girls face and rams his lips against hers that the girl just melts and she all of a sudden realizes that he really is the one and only, true love for her. But in real life, no girl finds that sexy. It makes her feel used, and weak.”

I thought I could feel the color drain from my face. ‘What am I supposed to say to that?’ I thought. I had never made someone kiss me before. It was an action I had done upon impulse; it seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Yeah, Sapphira, I am really sorry about that.”

She shook her head, “You don’t have to apologize. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I didn’t enjoy it.”

‘Ouch.’

“But, you proved your point. I do like you. I just, I don’t know if I want to do anything about it.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t want to get attached. I don’t want to get close. And I don’t want you to get close to me either. You’ll probably get disappointed.”

“I can wait until you’re ready,” I compromised. “I’ll wait until you want to open up again.”

“I don’t think you’re listening to what I’m trying to say.”

“Nothing that you could say will make me change how I feel.”

She folded her arms on the table and rested her chin on her wrist. “You’re so stubborn. What if I’m never ready?”

“I have a feeling that we’ll never see never.”

“There’s no point in getting close to someone when you know that they’ll just leave you someday. When you know that there’ll be the day when they’re gone and you miss them too much.”

I wondered if she was really just talking about me, or if she had her family and every person on earth in mind. I analyzed her words before responding, “I don’t think you really believe that. I think you wish you did, especially after what you went through. I think you wish you could have that outlook on life. But I have a feeling that you want to connect with other people more than you’re scared to lose them.”

“You think you know me so well,” she said pointedly.

“Then tell me that I’m wrong,” I demanded. “I think you’re itching to feel something other than pain for once, but you’re too scared that it’ll bite you in the ass and make things worse.”

She didn’t respond. And for once, I wasn’t afraid that my words were going to ruin things between us. We were past that now.

Sapphira lifted her head and looked at me. “We’re friends,” she decided. “If you can put up with my emotionally damaged and closed-off, silent self, then maybe—maybe—we’ll see if we can be more.”

I huge grin swept my face, “I’m gonna hold you to that Sapphria Torres.”

She smiled, and I couldn’t stop smiling.