Part Two
That day was the first day of school and everyone was bustling into the building, trying to find there classes.
Including a fairly short black woman with lond braids that reached her waist. She wore a pair of tight, faded blue jeans and tight short sleeved yellow shirt. She held up her schedule and squinted at it.
Her first class was composition. That should be fun, she thought. She blew a puff of air from lungs and slouched. She marched into the huge brick building.
"Excuse me." Someone said as he bumped into her from behind, catching her before she tumbled to ground.
"No problemo." She said as she turned to face the boy. "Rocky?"
She looked him over. Sure his hair had grown a bit and he was wearing blue, but it was him.
Rocky looked down at the girl. She looked exactly the same as the last time he saw her. She was still beautiful. She still wears yellow, he mused. Only her eyes held a since of maturity.
"Aisha?"
"How have you been?" She managed to say.
"Fine..." Rocky said with an awed expression on his face.
There was silence between them. A very awkward silence. They never were this uncomfortable in each others presence before. Well, Adam was always with them, but still they had known each other since the fifth grade. There should have been no awkward moments between them.
"Um... I should get to class." Aisha said avoiding his eyes.
"Yeah," Rocky said in a whisper. "What's your class?"
"Composition. Room 218A."
"That's me too, we can find it together."
A hopeful look crossed his face. Aisha smiled up at him.
"Sure."
"You can tell me how you came to be in the United States again."
"How about I'll tell you over lunch?" Aisha said boldly.
"Yeah, I would like that."