Linked Arms and Broken Elbows

“A life without hell would be a life without knowledge of the better half.”1

Amy wrote in her green notebook and he thought she was only copying down the notes that Miss Simons had scribbled onto the chalkboard. But when she was still writing, and everybody was not, Malcolm grew curious. Setting his chin on his hands that were made in a slight fist, he looked over toward Amy. He watched how her loose black curls of silk lightly blew in the fans wind. Malcolm could make out Amy’s familiar smell of what he liked to (or used to) call “vanilla icing.” He had loved to pull his arms around her from behind and just rest his cheek to hers, just being there to memorize her special scent. After two weeks he couldn’t believe he could still pick out her fragrance.2

Malcolm peeked over Amy’s shoulder to see what she was really writing. He couldn’t see everything, but he could make out “he”... “Love”... “My everything” ... “special to me” ... “empty” ... “dead inside.”3

‘Would she be speaking –’ but before he could finish his thoughts the school bell pierced through his mind. 4

When he finally got out of the hallway crowd and onto his own pace he saw Amy walking to her next classroom and accidentally called out her name; a habit. And her habit was to turn around at the sound of his voice and smile warmly. But she immediately regretted it. 5

‘I can’t face him now! What will he say? I can only imagine of what he’s thought of me... But I can’t be rude and just turn around...’6

Amy hunched over a tiny bit, hugging her thin purple binder closer to her chest. Malcolm remembered that binder quite well. It was the same purple binder that he had written all over: “I love you and forever,” “you’re my babe,” “you’re my princess,” etc. But now her Spider Pig folder hid his written feelings. She stopped a couple of feet in front of him, leaning back against the blue lockers. She couldn’t look him straight in the eye, or even at his face, so she traced the tile floor with her eyes. Malcolm loved her eyes. She thought they were just a pale blue but he thought they were the most perfect aqua teal. 7

“Hey,” she whispered, unsure if he had heard or not until he said “hey” back.8

“What’s up?”9

“Nothing,” she shook her head. 10

“Umm...” Malcolm rubbed the back of his neck to press down his short gelled hair, and then pushed his hands into his front jean pockets. “How ya holding up?”11

“Why are you talking to me?12

He was a little shocked of her question, but because he actually didn’t know the answer. “Umm... because I still care about you.”13

“And you think I don’t?” She was getting angry, and feeling a little overacting. 14

“Well, I hadn’t really thought about it.” Ever since she had done what she had done, he had never thought of how she would feel. He now felt selfish and was ashamed of himself.15

“Well you shouldn't HAVE to think about it because you should KNOW I care about you. You should KNOW that I love you. You should KNOW that I did not mean to hurt you, it was not on purpose. Nothing I ever did was to hurt you! Except now...” She brought back her right arm, slinging her binder and books to her left side, and shot her fist into his left cheek. His head flew back and he fell onto the ground with a grunt and a painful moan. She hugged her books to her chest again and stepped over the body and when on to her classroom.