I'll Never Say I Love You

“Tahara, wait up!”

I turned to see Kate Williams, my closest female friend, jogging towards me. Sometimes I wonder if Kate can go anywhere without jogging. She’s a health nut – only drinks water and exercises insanely. As for her body – there are people who look like twigs, and then there are people who make THEM look overweight, like Kate. Did I mention she’s also cute? She has light brown skin, narrow dark brown eyes, a small nose and long, straight brown hair.

We fell into step and walked towards our English class. I always felt ugly compared to Kate. I am a geek, so I spend almost all my time indoors and have very pale skin. My hair is black, naturally dead straight, and I tend to confine its length to my underarms. I’m only just over five foot tall, but Kate’s nearly six foot, so I always feel like a midget around her. My eyes are grey-green, normally one or the other dependent on the light and my environment. I only wear black, as it’s the only colour that suits me, whereas Kate can pull off anything.

“So, you going to Ray’s party?” she asked.

I nodded. Ray had had a party at the end of the first week of school since he moved where everyone in our year was invited.

“Should be awesome,” she continued. “Apparently there’s going to be a lot of people, including the school rugby team.” She waggled her eyebrows at me, and I blushed. “So, how did Math go?”

Using my right hand, I joined my thumb and pointer finger and straightened the other three fingers. Kate nodded and we continued walking.

Oh, I forgot to tell you. I don’t speak. It started in pre-school. The first friend I made was deaf, and she could only communicate using sign language. It fascinated me, so my parents enrolled me in a course so I could learn. After a year I had mastered the basics and gave up on speaking with my voice.

Making friends without speaking has always been hard. Some think I have mental issues, while others think I’m weird. That’s how I know who my true friends are: the ones who learn to communicate with me. That’s why I value my friends and family: they accept me for who I am, even though I’m probably a nutcase. My family have al mastered sign language, and my friends know understand to understand what I am saying the majority of the time. If all else fails, I carry a notepad, which helps with the teachers. They’ve all understood my choice. They always seem to love me because I get excellent grades. I prided myself on not having ever gotten anything less than an A- in middle school. Now it was time to see if senior school was going to be the same. It was the end of the first week and so far, things were looking up.

There’s been one teacher every year since middle school who has tried to get me to speak. This year it’s Mrs. Lake, my English teacher. My working theory is that she is an ex-hippie. Her clothes always seem bright, and I don’t know that she has ever brushed her hair.

“Righto adolescents, let’s get to it,” Mrs. Lake said once we had all taken our seats. Kate and I sat in the back left corner. “This semester, were going to study Shakespeare. We’ll be reading Macbeth and Twelfth Night, and performing one of them at the end of semester.” Her eyes flickered towards me, and I groaned.

This was going to be a long semester.

***

Once school had ended for the day, it was down to my usual routine. I always met up with Alex Roberts after school. Alex and I have been mates since we were born two hours apart and our mums met at the hospital. We’ve always clicked. I think it’s because I’ve had a crush on him since I learnt boys weren’t infested with cooties. I once tried telling him how I felt, but he laughed it off. I haven’t mentioned anything of it since. Besides, he always seems to have someone more beautiful than me after him. It never lasts long, but something tells me I don’t stand a chance against these girls, so I just sit on the sidelines, loving him silently.

Alex is gorgeous. He’s got blonde curly hair and sapphire blue eyes. Like Kate, he’s nearly six foot and toned, so they’re both rather tall for fifteen. Most of the people in this town are tall. His skin always seems to glow. He just glows. He’s a very casual guy. Like me, he has a separate group of friends at school – I guess it stems from the whole cooties theory.

Every afternoon after school, Alex and I meet at the front of the library, where we can spot each other easily. We then go against the waves of students leaving the school towards our lockers, which is easier than it sounds with Alex, and then leave together when the rush has subsided. That afternoon, Alex got there five minutes after me. He walked over and smiled when he saw me. I smiled back and waved.

“Sorry, I had phys ed,” he said, almost breathlessly.

‘I know,’ I signed, pointing at his wrinkled pants, which looked as though he had put them on quickly. Alex is like a part of my family – he can speak fluent sign language.

“I guess I was just in a hurry to see you,” he grinned.

We fell into step walking towards our lockers, like we did every afternoon. I loved the routine of it. We sorted out what we needed to take home for the weekend and headed for the school entrance.

“So, what plans have you got for the weekend?” Alex asked, looking at me as we walked. I praise all my friends for the ability to walk and look at me to see what I’m saying at the same time.

‘Ray’s party tomorrow night, not much else,’ I signed. ‘You?’

“Well, other than Ray’s party, I’m going to be at home with the family. You should spend tomorrow at my house, I’m sure Bec would love to get you ready for the party.”

Alex’s older sister Bec had moved to Sydney to become a professional make-up artist and hairdresser a few years back. Now that she was fully qualified, she had moved back here to Clindon. She was nice, but always pestering me to change my look.

I gave Alex the thumbs up and we walked to my house in a comfortable silence, as is the routine. We get home and eat whatever sweet stuff my mum, a chef, has made. That afternoon, Mum greeted as with a plate of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. Though my mum always looks haphazard, as do most chefs, she manages to look beautiful at the same time. She is always smiling, always happy. Her hair, black as mine, is long and curly. They’re a stark contrast to her bright grey eyes. She’s very curvy, and damn proud of it. She never feels pressured to lose weight. She and I are around the same height.

“Tahara, honey, welcome home,” she said, putting the plate on the kitchen bench and running over to hug me. “Alex, good to see you,” she said, moving on to hug Alex as well. Alex is considered family around here, like I am at his house.

I smiled at her. “Afternoon, Mandy,” Alex said, smiling. “Those cookies smell great.”

“Thank you,” Mum replied, beaming. “I’m just going to duck over to the neighbours and give them some.” She went back to the kitchen, grabbed two containers from the bench, and left the unit.

See, that just shows how much Alex is considered family. Why else would someone leave their fifteen-year-old daughter home alone with a guy? Heck, they even let him sleep over. He’s here so often that he has his own drawer in the bathroom filled with everything he
needs, and I have the same at his house.

“These cookies are really good,” Alex said, his mouth filled with the said cookies. Crumbs flew from his mouth.

‘Chew with your mouth closed,’ I signed, frowning.

“Soooooorry, Mum,” Alex replied sarcastically, grinning.

I couldn’t help it. I grinned back. His gorgeous smile was infectious.

While Alex stuffed his face and brought the cookies over to the lounge room coffee table, I set my bag down next to my favourite chair and threw myself into it. Almost as soon as I did, there was a weight pressing down on my lap, moving around. I grinned down at my kitten as he meowed up at me. Maxwell is a snow white twelve-week-old fluffball. He is a true lap cat, jumping into someone’s lap as soon as they sat down. I scratched Maxwell behind his ears as he purred, making himself comfortable. Alex propped a board up stretching from one armrest to the other, covering Maxwell. This allowed me a solid bench to do my work while Maxwell curled in my lap.

‘You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you?’ I signed, smiling, as Alex placed a bowl of cookies on the board.

“You’d do the same for me if Snowball had made himself at home on my lap,” Alex answered, using his nickname for Maxwell. He shrugged, but there was something off about it.

I’m a very observant person.

‘All right,’ I signed as soon as he met my eyes to smile. ‘What’s on your mind?’

Alex sighed, knowing he was cornered. He knew how perceptive and observant I was, and he also knew that he was somewhat predictable. “I’ve come here today under false pretences,” he admitted, sitting down in the other chair.

‘How is that different to normal? You always say you’re here for me, but I know you’re really here for the food,’ I replied, winking at the end, hoping to make Alex laugh. It worked, but only for a second.

“It’s worse than that this time,” he replied. I feigned shock as he continued. “Bec wants me to try and convince you to let her give you a makeover.” I was about to protest, but he cut over me. “I thought that if I sucked up to you enough, you’d let her.”

He smiled at me, and my heart was thumping so hard I thought it was going to burst out of my chest, destroying a few ribs in the process, and land in the bowl of cookies on my board. There was one smile Alex had that just made me swoon. He didn’t open his mouth, and his whole mouth seemed to move upwards. That outside corners of his eyes would crinkle, but his eyes would still stay large and absolutely divine. His face would flush a very pale shade of pink. But the favourite part of my favourite smile of his was how he just relaxed. His shoulders would drop, his head would go slightly to one side, and – when he was sitting with his feet up – his feet would fall to the same side as his head. He had to know that I could never resist that smile. That no matter what the request, if he used that smile, he would always get what he wanted.

‘If it’ll make her happy,’ I signed, giving him a small smile so that he could see how unsure I was.

“She’ll make you beautiful, Tarie, I promise.” Alex grinned, and kissed me on the cheek gratefully.

I swear I could almost feel the ribs cracking.