Andy Please, Let Me Inside of Your Heart

After Geography, I had Cooking. That was seventh hour! Yay! My last class of the week (it was a Friday) but also the last time I got to see Andy for two more days. I was on my way to the Cooking room just pondering reasons why Andy never talked to anyone.

I can rule out mute, because I've heard his voice a couple times. It's very nice. Kind of deep, and- oh.

Maybe his family abuses him? Oh god, I hope not! That might also explain why he's got like, perma-hoodie. Oh my god! What if he actually does get abused at home?! Would it be wrong if I told someone that I thought that? No, it'd probably be none of my- "OW!" Someone had crashed pretty much headlong into me. "Oh my god, I'm sorry," I said, kneeling down to help him with his stuff. It had all gone flying.

He looked up at me, and I found myself gazing stupidly at Andy's post-rainstorm grey eyes. I shook my head a little, because I was doing the whole creepy stare-y thing.

"Are you okay?" I asked him. He nodded. "That's good. Me too," I replied, knowing he wasn't gonna ask me if I was. You know. The whole, not-talking thing. I caught a glimpse of his minute handwriting- it was about one-eighth of an inch tall, and really cramped. It reminded me of calligraphy somehow.

I grabbed his last paper and gave it to him, then rocked myself back onto my tiptoes and on my feet. "Come on, Andy, let's go to class. The bell's about to ring." He nodded quickly and slightly, not meeting my eyes. Then he went back to his usual expression of confusion-slash-frustration, as if he was having a silent argument with himself that I wasn't supposed to notice.

We walked into the Cooking room about ten seconds before the final bell rang, like a fire alarm. A three-second-long fire alarm. Everyone was in a different spot than the day before- oh well now. A new seating chart. I traced my finger around the arrangement, looking for my name. When I found it, I went to sit down. I didn't even worry about looking at who was around me, because we were already technically tardy and I didn't want to make it worse.

Andy was taking his sweet time.

Eventually, he pulled the chair across from mine out and gracefully plopped himself down. (Yeah, I know, how does one gracefully plop? He did.)

"Hi," I whispered, surprised. He didn't even look up from the previous night's homework that the teacher had begun to go over with us. He just waved. His eyebrows furrowed, and he laced his hands together. Another conflict with himself? Probably.

The teacher took an answer on the last question, then passed out the quiz we had been anticipating for the last week. Oh, boy.

x

About halfway through me finishing my quiz, I heard a rustle across from me. Andy had finished his quiz, turned it over, and started his homework for that night. He had his left earbud in his ear, and I could barely hear words from the other one that was resting on the table.

"I'm feeling like it's personal, so personal and I can barely breathe...

Believe me when I say it's not so personal if you won't speak with me..."

I grabbed a Sharpie and wrote those lyrics on my hand so I could look them up that night.

x

As soon as I got off the bus I practically raced inside to my permanently turned-on computer in my bedroom, and typed those lyrics into the search bar on Google.

"Sparkle Baby Shine," by Danger Radio. Hm. Well, let's find out the rest of those lyrics.

Andy please, let me inside of your heart
I'm waiting here for you
To help guide me through all of the doubts that I have
I can't seem to break through
I won't hurt you...

This is some sort of message, isn't it.