What a tragically strange boy. He walked into math class with an obvious stagger, and I immediately assumed he was on drugs. I rolled my eyes and sighed, wondering how such losers got into such good math classes. You can imagine my disgust as I realized the boy was sitting down in the chair next to me. But then, I took a closer look at him as he unloaded his books. His arms were covered in bruises and there was a yellow circle, a healing bruise, around his right eye.
"Are you okay?" I whispered worriedly. I wondered what weak, insolent person would pick on such a small, helpless looking boy. In fact, at the time, I thought he was a girl. That was, until he spoke.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you okay?" he said with an eager and heart-warming smile.
"I'm perfectly fine, thank you," I told him. "But are you sure those bruises are okay?"
"Well, I would think I'd be pretty sure if I was in pain or not, so why bother even asking twice? I'm fine, see? No need to worry. Plus, we're in math class." He said, turning to face the teacher.
"What does math class have to do with it?" It was the only thing I could think of to say. Never did I imagine I'd get such a well thought out answer.
"It's the only place where things are either right or wrong. There are no maybes or kind ofs. There's no looking deep inside to find the true meaning. What you see is what you get. You know?" I didn't know. But I nodded anyway. His smile could change black into white.
After class, we walked around campus together, talking, when I mentioned my bass guitar.
"D'you really play?" he asked excitedly.
"Of course. Why would I lie?" I answered.
"Let's get it. You have to be in my band."
And with that, we rushed to my dorm, grabbed my guitar, and headed to the library.