A Doodle of Dragons

     My freshman year of high school was filled with boy-watching. I watched Casey in first period geometry. He was a tall, athletic senior with bright blue eyes. I watched Bob in second period biology. He was a skinny, tanned Arizona boy who'd moved to Alabama recently. He and I even dated briefly. I watched him again in third period P.E. He was small, uncoordinated, and cute. I watched Allen in my fourth period choral class. He wasn't the cutest or the most talented, but we had a duet together. I had no opportunity to watch boys in fifth period typing. Very few boys took that class. I watched the Arizona boy again in sixth period English. Since he sat right next to me, I got a good view, and I got to know him. And I watched Ray in seventh period Alabama history.

    Ray was tall. He had dark hair and blue eyes, a combination that intrigued me. He was left-handed and casually brilliant. I wanted to get to know him better, but I was terrified. I wanted nothing more than to turn around and talk to him, to dazzle him with my delightful personality, to win him over with my big, brown eyes and my funny charm.

     But the thought of turning around made my palms sweat, my mouth dry out, my heart race, and I would sit there. Then one day, I wrote a short note.

Ray,

     I don't know if you know who I am. My name is Debra. I was just wondering if you would like to talk to me or write me back. If you know who I am, do you think I'm weird? It's sort of the popular opinion.

     If you want to talk to me, please stay after class or you can write me a note back.

                                                                           Debra

     I took a deep breath and dropped the note over my shoulder onto the desk behind me. My hands shook, and I felt the need to run far and fast. Then nothing happened. The class dragged on in usaul style. My nerves began to calm down as despair set in. After thirty minutes, I just knew he wasn' going to write me back.

     The bell rang, and I stayed in my seat, hoping that he would do the same, that he was just waiting to talk to me. Then I felt him getting up. I heard the sound of him collecting his books. My heart took a running leap as I waited to see what would happen. Then he walked past me.

     My heart plummeted. I couldn't take the highs and lows anymore. I started getting my own books together. I was bent over, pulling my purse out from under my chair, when I noticed a shadow cross my desk. I looked up to find a note.

Deborah,

     I would love to correspond with you, if that is what you wish. I do not know if you are weird because I do not know you. I do not trust the opinions of others, so I will judge for myself if you are unusual or "unsane."

                                                                                             Ta,

                                                                                             Ray!

     I tucked the note into my purse and floated to my locker. My best friend was waiting for me. "Guess what?"

     "You finally talked to him."

     "No, I gave him a note and he wrote me back." I showed Cheyanne the note.

*     *     *

 

    The next day, I was standing in front of the English building at break, talking to Cheyanne, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to find Ray standing behind me holding out a piece of paper. He handed the note to me with a bow, and in curtsied in response. Then he walked away.

 

     I unfolded the letter to reveal a drawing of two dragons, tails intetwined, lining the side of the paper. The drawing was like something I'd only ever seen in Celtic knotwork. Each dragon was outlined in pen, one blue with gold details, and one black with red.

Deborah,

     I was sitting in 2nd period, doodling, and I wondered, "Who do I know would enjoy a note outlined with dragons?" Then I answered myself, "I bet that 'weird' girl Deborah would."

     I'm still not convinced of your strangeness. You could say I'm a bit of a skeptic. While your wardrobe is a bit unusual for this area, it reminds me so very much of my home state of Florida, that I cannot count it in your favor. I have seen some very weird things in my life so far. You would not believe the stories I could tell you about military school, so you'll have to be really "out there" for me to consider you stange.

     If you have some stories to tell me, I'm always open to hear anything you have to tell me to convince me otherwise. In fact, you can call me. My number is (334) 555-6733.

                                                                           Ta,
                                                                           Ray



     I read the word doodling and looked at the dragons. They didn't look like any doodle I'd ever drawn, and I considered myself an artist. Well, maybe artsy was a better discriptive. I had to put a lot of effort into any art piece that I did just to get it to turn out looking 1/10th as good as what I imagined in my head. I was much better with words, but I loved to paint. It was something my Paw-Paw had taught me, and it made me feel connected to him.

     I looked at the doodle again. Ray's casual doodle of dragons put me to shame, and he had done it in class, so he'd put less than an hour's effort into it. I felt both jealousy and intrigue, and I knew in that moment that I had to get to know him better.