I'll Never Say I Love You

I looked at the clock again, but there was still five minutes left. It was the class before lunch – Home Economics – and I had already had it with the day. I was over people talking to me about Kyle. Melissa, on the other hand, was in her element. As soon as someone approached she’d take them aside, answering any questions they had. When the jealous girls who had wanted Kyle for themselves glared at me, Melissa would tell them to go do some things with a donkey that I would rather not repeat. I was happy both ways. Getting this much attention was scaring the crap out of me. Before, people had gone out of their way to ignore me, and now it was the opposite.

I looked at the clock again – four more minutes. I was eager for Home Economics to end not just because it brought me closer to the end of the school day, but because I was eager to talk to Kyle. I wanted to give him the opportunity to talk to me about whatever he had wanted to talk about before Alex had interrupted as the day before. I also had to give him my address.

I spent the last few minutes of class drawing a bowl of pasta in my workbook.

“Why are you drawing cat vomit?” Melissa whispered.

Okay, I’m not the world’s best artist. I tapped the heading of the page with my pen, clearly showing that it was a pasta recipe.

“Still looks like cat vomit,” Melissa said, shrugging before going back to her own work.

As soon as the bell rang, I slammed my book shut and grabbed my keys and notepad out of my bag. We had the same class after lunch, so it was safe to leave everything else where it was.

I looked up when I saw Kyle walking towards me. “Tahara, hi,” he said, standing next to me.

I smiled and gave a small wave.

“Wanna hang out together?” he asked, his eyes dancing as he smiled.

I turned to Melissa, who I knew was behind me and listening to every word. “Go ahead,” she urged, dismissing me with her hands.

I turned to Kyle and nodded. We walked out of the classroom together, me expecting for him to take me to the library again. Instead, I followed him out to the school basketball courts.

“So, about the dance...I’m going to need your address,” he said as we walked across the green lawns.

I smiled and ripped the top piece of paper of my notepad, handing it to him. I had had my address written on that piece of paper since he had asked me to go to the dance with him.

“Sweet,” he said. We got to the basketball courts and sat down on one of the chairs surrounding it, situated under a large oak tree. “So, did your friend get home in time to have his...uh...whatever it was he wanted?”

I nodded. Mum baked him something, I wrote.

“He must be a special friend to have your mum baking for him,” Kyle said questioningly.

I shrugged. Something about discussing Alex with Kyle put me on edge, made me nervous.Mum bakes something daily. Yesterday was Alex’s choice, I wrote.

Kyle nodded. “How long have you been friends?”

Since we were born.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right?”

I shook my head. Born two hours apart, same hospital, I wrote, smiling. It always made me happy to think of how long Alex and I had known each other for so long and were still such close friends.

Kyle let out a low whistle. “So you guys are pretty close?”

I nodded.

“You guys have never...you know...dated?” he asked hesitantly.

I shook my head emphatically. Strictly friends, I wrote, debating with myself about whether to underline either word.

A group of meatheads wandered over and I frowned, recoiling slightly. I have always hated meatheads. The majority of them have their heads so far up their butts that they could eat their own stomachs. Thankfully, Kyle seemed different to the rest of the guys walking over, who were hooting and hollering.

“So, I’m going to be playing basketball with my friends, would you like to watch me?” he asked hopefully.

I hesitated, not being much of a sports person, but nodded. I didn’t want to risk hurting his feelings by saying no. I relaxed on the bench once the meatheads walked onto the courts and started playing. I tried to feign interest in the game, but I’m not sure it worked. I couldn’t tell who was on what team or who was shooting where. All I knew to do was clap politely when Kyle scored, which was pretty often. He seemed to be very athletically talented, unlike me.

“You’re Tahara, aren’t you?”

I turned to see a pretty girl with short brown hair falling to just below her ears sitting down next to me halfway through the game. Her narrow brown eyes met mine, and she smiled.

“I’m Kew,” she said. She spoke perfect English, but her voice held a thin Chinese accent.

I gave a small wave.

“That’s right, you don’t speak,” she said thoughtfully. “So, Kyle got you over here, did he?”

I nodded, wondering just who this girl was.

“I’m here for Dave,” she said, pointing a tall meathead with long black hair. “I think we’re the only girlfriends this year.”

I gave her a questioning look.

“This is where all the girlfriends hang out, every break, while the boys play their games,” she explained. “Last year there were a good number of us. Now, all the other girls have graduated or left and it’s just me, and now you.”

I nodded in understanding.

“If you go out with Kyle then we’re going to be pretty good friends,” Kew said, smiling. “I’ll kick the ball off and tell you a bit about myself. My name is Kew, I was born in China and I’m sixteen years old.”

She looked at me expectantly, and I grabbed my notepad. Tahara, born in Clindon, 15, I wrote, and showed it to her.

She nodded. “Expected. Clindon seems to be a born here, die here town.”

We ‘talked’ for the rest of the lunch break, similar to the way Kyle and I had gotten to know one another earlier in the week. Kew seemed to be a very friendly, happy person. Not once did her smile leave her face. It amazed me that I had found two people in one week who seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me.

When the bell rang at the end of the lunch break, Kew stood up at the same time as I did. For once, I was taller than someone! I desperately wanted to partake in a celebration dance, but refrained, as it probably wasn’t the best thing to do in public.

“I give you fair warning, Tahara,” she whispered as we stood, her gaze flickering over to the boys constantly as though to make sure they weren’t coming our way just yet. Her smile faltered for the first time. “If you’re going to be Kyle’s girlfriend, you are going to be here every break. That’s the way it is with being a girlfriend. If the guys want you to watch them play, then by God, you best watch.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. Surely she wasn’t being serious? The guys wouldn’t make their girlfriends watch them play some stupid game ALL the time, would they? Surely the girlfriends were allowed to hang out with their other friends when they wanted to?

“I’m being serious,” she continued, her whisper becoming more urgent. “If you’re not going to be able to handle that, then get out while you still can.”

Kew’s smile was plastered back on, though not falsely, when the boys arrived. The meathead with long hair kissed her full on the lips, and I turned away out of respect. I heard someone laughing at me, and turned further away to see Kyle approaching me.

“No need to be shy, Tahara, they do this all the time. You’ll get used to it,” he laughed, leading the way towards the buildings.

I ran his words through my head. You’ll get used to it. I looked at Kew, now holding hands and walking with Dave, then towards the table where I could see my friends walking towards their classrooms. I thought about what Kew had said, about the girlfriends being there all the time. Would that become of me?

No, I decided. Kew was obviously over-reacting or something. Maybe her friends had been ratting on her about how much time she spent with her boyfriend, and had said what she said to me out of guilt. Yes, that was it. Surely the other girlfriends had spent time with their friends, and Kew was just over generalising. I had been silly to consider the idea in the first place.

School ended, and as Alex and I had Home Economics together, we walked straight to our lockers together. Quick as I tried to walk, however, people still managed to slow me down and talk to me about Kyle. Now it was plain frustrating. Surely everyone had spoken to someone else, knew what was going on, and could just leave me the hell alone? Were people that disbelieving of the idea that I could get a date that they didn’t trust what they were told, and wanted to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth? If this kept up tomorrow, I was going to strangle someone.
“Have people only just heard about you and Kyle?” Alex asked incredulously as we sorted out our things.

I shook my head. ‘I’ve been getting it all day,’ I signed, angry.

Alex clucked sympathetically, knowing how much I was hating the attention. “Look on the bright side, Tarie. Uh...” he trailed off, looking at the roof thoughtfully.

I clapped my hands to bring his attention back to me. ‘There is no bright side to this, is there?’ I asked.

“Not that I can think of,” he admitted. “Don’t worry; it’s not a forever thing.”

‘Yes, that makes me feel so much better,’ I signed sarcastically. I slammed my locker shut at the same time Alex did. ‘If anyone I’m not friends with talks to me about it tomorrow, I am going to scream.’

“If you’re going to use your vocal cords, at least sing,” Alex pleaded as began to make our way home. “You have a wonderful singing voice.”

I groaned. The disadvantage to being friends with Alex was that someone other than my family remembered what my voice sounded like, and he liked to point it out every so often. He maintained that I had a beautiful singing voice. While I remember enjoying singing when I spoke, I didn’t remember what my voice had sounded like, singing or normal. It wasn’t a memory I particularly missed. As far as I was concerned, deciding not to speak was the best decision I had ever made. It made me unique. If it turned out that not speaking had caused my vocal cords to disintegrate or something, I don’t think I would care. I was sure other people would like to hear me speak (or sing, in Alex’s case), but that didn’t bother me. I was happy with myself the way I was.