Barrier

Social interactions make me want to puke. Actually any kind of interaction with people, I tend to tense. Now observation or, as my father once said, ‘people watching’ is my number one pass time. The body language between two people is quite extraordinary.

Do you see Penelope, the way she’s using her hands? She needs to feel like she’s in control of the conversation.

See that hug Penelope, they embraced but one patted the other on the back. That’s an indication he wanted to stop hugging.

My father spoke these similar statements when I was a little girl. Ever since he’s focused onto those specific details, I’ve embraced the same interest and curiosity.

In the corridor, I watch two girls speaking to one another. They wore same attire, an off-yellow dress with white collar sleeves. One girl had long brunette hair and her voice was loud compared to the other girl’s. Her lips were moving fast and her whole being held energy. The other girl nodded her head, agreeing with what the brunette said. There was a mutual excitement between them.

“Penelope,” a voice said.

There was an older gentleman standing next to a middle age man. My uncle was the one who spoke. He held his hand out. “Mr. Suoh would like to ask a few questions,” my uncle said, gently. His hair shown gray spots where it use to be black in his youth.

I nodded my head. Quickly, I stood up from the sycamore bench and politely bowed the top half of my body to Mr. Suoh. He returned the respectable behavior towards me. With his right hand, Mr. Suoh pointed towards his office. My uncle and I followed his lead. My eyes gazed at my surroundings, the curvy and flower designs on the top of the walls were descriptive. There was a hint of gold on the designs, even the curtains painfully matched the gold tone perfectly.

“Penelope stop gawking,” my uncle hissed. “Sit down.”

We had made it successfully into Mr. Suoh’s office. I concealed my anger towards my uncle as I sat down in the leather chair.

“Hello, and welcome…” Mr. Suoh said, and then his mouth continued to move. The anxiety bubbled in my chest watching his face for any recognizable expression. His hands stayed in one spot on his desk, both of them clasped together. A smile radiated not only from his lips but also from his eyes. There was a pause in his speech. I stared back in his eyes.

My uncle sat up in his chair, waiting impatiently for me to respond.

“Please do forgive me,” I declared, “but could you repeat what you said? In English?”

“You do not speak Japanese?” Mr. Suoh asked, finally in English.

“I have not had the pleasure to learn Japanese but I do know French, German, a little Italian, and most definitely English.”

Mr. Suoh held a look of disbelief.

His mouth opened as my uncle said, “She’s a fast learner. You know our situation - her circumstances - she’s only been in Japan for three weeks and she’s picked up the basic conversations.”

Mr. Suoh gently smiled. “I do understand, Mr. Soriano. However my concern is her falling behind her fellow students if she cannot simply understand what the professor is saying. She needs to build a communication.”

“Am I allowed to record my teacher?” I asked.

“What?”

“I can prerecord my professors what they are saying and then find a translator to explain.”

“That’s extra work, Penelope. Why would you put yourself into a horrible situation like that? Mr. Soriano I would recommend homeschooling or Japanese language class before putting her into a school.”

I gripped my knee. “What difference does it make if I pass or fail? Would you want to miss on the opportune moment to create more revenue with the Soriano family?”

Mr. Suoh was silent.

“Your outcome, if you should fail, which I believe you will, is on our records. The knowledge of a student failing at Ouran High School will discourage other families from attending this school. If you fail, it could cause worriment towards other parents, for fear their child might fail as well.”

“I won’t fail,” I stated. “You know my past grades from my old school-”

“American school.”

“Yes,” I said. “It was an American school, but nonetheless I’ve received a high GPA. I’ve took multiple college courses and passed on the exams. Mr. Suoh I’ve reached your requirements, and I’m only here for a year.”

Mr. Suoh leaned his elbow on the table.

There was a deal happening between us. A silent one.

“One condition,” he replied, “you have to take a Japanese course outside of the school. We don’t teach the language anymore unless you wish to be with our younger people.”

“Agree.”

Mr. Suoh stood up with a smile. My uncle shook his hand sharing the same excitement. “Excellent, well then, welcome to Ouran Academy! You’ll be in the second year program, which is a little lower than what you’ve taken in America since our scale is different. But I believe it will be excellent for you.”

Uh huh. You didn’t say that earlier.

“Thank you.”

“If you have any questions do not hesitate to ask me, or my son, Tamaki. He loves helping anyone in need.”