It is always exciting to bear witness to a new beginning. A sunrise is always beautiful, in a thousand different ways. In the same way, it is a joy to see a new relationship forming.
I have been practicing different ways to bring people together. I learned from Ramona months ago that in film, this is called a “meet cute”—the moment where the two sides of a romance come together for the first time in a way that is memorable and, well, cute. At first I took inspiration from movies, many of which Ramona would use as an opportunity to practice her signing. I had limited success. Causing a conflict over a seat on a bus only led to an argument, and the poor woman I made to spill water on the man she was serving burst into tears and fled to the kitchen until he had left the restaurant. The two girls I made to meet eyes through a fish tank were interested, but never managed to find one another in the crowds at the club.
These exercises were not a waste, however. They taught me that a meeting has to be particular to the two people who are making a connection. It must mean something to both of them, and it has to happen at the right time. I think I have managed it nicely with Mary and Jordan.
The more I have learned about Jordan, the more I like him. He is an athletic boy, but not a star player on either the football or the soccer teams. He is more interested in helping his team to win and spending time with his friends than in showing his own talent on the field. He has younger brothers, as Mary does, but he is quite close to his, often passing his afternoons teaching them moves out behind their house. His family is not well off, but they are happy, and Jordan is happy, too. He is perhaps not as good of a student as he could be, but when he puts in the effort he does well enough.
I have spent the past few days drawing his attention to Mary, and I am satisfied that there could be attraction, if I were able to distinguish her from the other girls he watches with faint speculation. I am satisfied that I have done so.
It was very simple to do, really; the only tricky thing was the timing. I had to bring Jordan past Mary at just the right moment, turning his gaze in the right direction to catch sight of the page that slipped from her notebook. I then had to press Mary into motion so that Jordan could not catch her, so that he would have a chance to pick up the page and look at it. Such things are gentle persuasions, easy to accomplish, but arranging the timing requires a great deal of care. I flatter myself that I have come to do it well.
Jordan picked up the page and folded it in half, resolving to give it to Mary in their history class. I liked that he was honorable enough not to want to pry, though I could see that he was curious. I encouraged him to overcome his scruples, since this was the reason I had made the paper fall, after all. So as soon as their teacher gave them a bit of time to work on their assignments, Jordan took out the page and unfolded it.
It took him a moment to interpret Mary’s hurried scrawl. The page was a list of notes for things that Mary wanted to look into for the website—new resource websites, including a phone number or two for representatives of the sites, ideas for responses to current chats and for new topics, and a few design notes she meant to pass on to Aaron.
Jordan made the connection quickly. He had assumed the website had been designed by adults and was surprised and impressed to find himself incorrect. He spent the rest of that period turning over in his mind what he knew about Mary, and when the bell rang, he jumped up and went as quickly as he could to his next class.
In history, the teacher allows them to sit where they want. Usually Jordan chooses a seat by the window, but this time he planted himself in the seat Mary normally takes and waited.
She came in, distracted, and had already put her books on the desk before she realized someone was already there. For a moment she only blinked at him, and her cheeks went red. “Sorry,” she said, scooping up her books again and depositing them onto the desk next to his. She sank into the chair, trying to hide her face.
Jordan mused that she was cute when she was embarrassed. “You dropped this in the hall earlier,” he said, holding the page of notes out to her.
Mary glanced up and immediately snatched the page, beaming with relief. “Thank you! I have been looking everywhere for this. Oh, thank goodness. I didn’t have those numbers anywhere else, and if I didn’t give them to Nadi she would’ve killed me…” She looked up, realized that Jordan was still watching her, and trailed off, red-faced once more.
He leaned into the aisle to look at the page. “So you’re the one who set up that website? Strugglebus?” This is not the name of the site, but it is what it has come to be called by the students, and Mary and her friends have discussed changing the name.
Mary wasn’t quite certain what to say. They have done so well in hiding the secret that she was unsure what to do now that it had been discovered.
I called this to Jordan’s attention, and he lowered his voice. “Hey, if you want to keep it anonymous, that’s cool,” he said. “I just think it’s really cool that you’ve done that.”
Mary looked up. She was unaccustomed to being the focus of a boy’s undivided attention. But his sincerity was clear on his face, and she felt the warmth of it. “Thanks,” she said. I nudged her, and she asked shyly, “Have you been there?”
“Once or twice, just to check it out,” he answered. “My mom saw it the other day. She thinks it’s the greatest thing ever.”
Someone came down the aisle then, and Jordan had to lean back or get knocked in the head by a heavy bag. As soon as the student was past, however, he leaned back towards Mary again. “So you’re not doing it alone, right? How many people are on it with you?”
“There’s four of us,” Mary answered after a second.
“Whose idea was it?”
“Mine,” Mary said, pleased to be able to give that answer.
“That’s really cool,” Jordan said, smiling at her. “Did you design the site? It looks good.”
“No, that was my friends. I’m not much good with computers,” she confessed.
“Me, neither. I only passed Computer Science because my buddy Trent helped me study. So what do you do on the site? Is it all research?”
“No, that’s usually my friend Nadia’s job,” Mary told him, beginning to warm to the subject in the face of his obvious interest. “But she had a meet this weekend and she’s wiped, so she asked me to help her out. Most of the time I run the chats.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jordan asked. “That’s some heavy stuff. You do all of it?”
“Mostly it’s me. Sometimes my friends help out.”
The late bell rang. Jordan glanced up in irritation, then turned in his seat to face Mary completely. He lowered his voice. “How do you know what to say? I wouldn’t have any idea.”
Mary shrugged. “You just have to realize that whatever someone else is going through, it’s probably something similar to what you feel,” she said. “I just try to put myself in their position and say what I would want to hear. And even when I don’t know what to say, sometimes just being there for someone is enough.”
The teacher called the students to order then, but it was clear that Jordan had not lost his interest. He kept glancing at Mary throughout the class, thinking about what he could remember from the site. He liked what he saw. He also could not help but notice and be pleased by her blushes. After class, he caught her to ask more questions, and they exchanged phone numbers so he could text her after school.
It is a promising beginning. True, right now Jordan’s interest is in Mary’s work, but that work is so important to her heart that he will find his way to that, too. As for Mary, she is pleased to have his interest—it is healing to her heart just to be considered worthy of admiration. For that alone, I would be proud of my work, but I believe there is reason to hope for more in the future.
I must go tell Inca; she has asked to be kept informed about Mary’s progress. I will write again soon!