First Impression
I have to admit that I didn’t like him, not in the least. When I first set eyes on him, looking over every piece of clothing he wore, every facial expression he used; I couldn’t judge him like I had done with other people. He was different somehow. With his green eyes and a frown that never seemed to fade from his lips, he was truly unique. He mostly wore black and chains attached heavily to his ripped and worn-out jeans. Yet he always wore a pink bandana over his hair. On hot, summer days, he'd take it off for a brief moment to rake his hand through his hair, but otherwise, it was always on. His eyebrow was pierced drawing attention to his eyes and a tattoo of an eagle on his right arm.
The clanking of his chains bashing together as he trudged down the hallway in his usual manner. I shuddered by his presence. I stood frozen in my own converse, afraid to make any sudden movements to give me away. He turned towards me, eyes locked on, staring straight ahead. I hung my head in embarrassment, not wanting him to think I was a total jerk for not moving or saying anything. As the late bell rang its piercing calls that echoed down the hallway, he tore his glance away and retreated. I sighed in relief. I didn’t want to face him. I was afraid about what could happen. As I entered my fifth period class, I craned my neck to make sure he wasn't following me again; thankfully he wasn’t.
By the end of the school day, he had gotten in trouble twice and been sent to the Principal’s office for back-talking a teacher. I gathered all my books I needed for the nights homework and stuffed it all in my backpack. But apparently, my backpack didn’t seem too hungry to eat them, so my books didn’t exactly fit. I tried everything to get my books to stay inside my bag until I go so frustrated that I kicked my backpack across the hallway so hard that it skidded across the tiled floor and all the contents spilled out. At the exact moment, he came stomping on menacingly. Then he did something extraordinary. He crouched down and started to pick up my books. He handed them back to me, all neatly piled underneath my sea of paper. He had this I’m-such-a-good-boy look on his face and he smiled. I forced a grin to show my appreciation of his helpfulness.
“My name is Darrell,” he replied monotonously.
“Uh, my name is . . .Alex,” I replied slowly, trying to cover up my nervousness.
“Well, Alex. Nice to meet you.” He held out a hand. For me to shake?! I was astonished. How could a boy who seemed like such a bad egg turn out to be so genuine and gentle?! I shook his hand carefully, afraid that I might crack his hard, outer shell.
“Do you happen to know the math homework?” he asked me. We had ended up in the same, basic classes. Go figure.
“Uh, I believe she gave us about thirty problems to do. They are due tomorrow.”
“But tomorrow is Saturday,” he corrected me.
“You knew what I meant,” I replied suavely. He laughed a loud cackle that made me want to shrivel up and die on the spot.
“See you,” he called as he walked off. He shuffled through a swinging door that led him to the outside world.
When I got home, I grabbed a couple chocolate chip cookies and plopped my tired body onto the comfy couch. I flicked on the television with a touch of my finger. As I surfed through the many channels, the non-stopping cries of the phone began to call me. I briskly picked it up.
“Hello?” I said, suspecting it was my mother asking me to do some sort of useless chore.
“Hey, Alex,” A shaking voice answered. It sounded familiar but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Uh, who is this?” I asked, my voice quavering.
“You know me,” the mysterious voice answered. “We met in the hall.”
Then it suddenly hit me. It was Darrell!
“Oh . . . Well, why’d you call? Something important I presume. And how'd you get my number?”
I twirled my finger around the phone cord waiting for his response.
“Well, actually...” He laughed nervously. "I got your number from the school phone book. But I called because I wanted to ask you something."
"Oh, that makes sense. But shoot away.” I replied, making a gun gesture with my fingers. “I’ll give you my best answer.”
“Well, I wrote a poem. I want to know what you thinkn of it. Here, listen.”
I waited as he cleared his throat.
“When I first saw you, your eyes sparkled with diamonds, your smile brightened my day. My only wish is that you, the blooming flower of the bouquet, will be my girlfriend.”
I dropped the phone in amazement. My mouth flew open. Did he just say what I thought he said? Was I daydreaming? Realizing I looked like a fish that had gotten out of the water, I closed my gaping mouth. At that moment, I noticed that I had judged him without knowing him first and that even first impressions like the incident in the hallway, can be helpful in knowing what a person is really like. I picked up the phone from its recent resting place, cradled between my ear and shoulder and said, “yes.”
I hope you don't mind.
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