Chapter 10

Day 30 of 42 days of friendship.

Dear diary,

We created a language! It's called 'Kangaga'. I initially wanted 'Nguwaguwa' but Kangaga is starting to grow on me. Nevertheless, we have a language! Perhaps, once we master more vocabulary we can make a flag and an anthem.

Today, Sheldon and I coincidentally wore matching colors and some jerk tried to humiliate us by saying we looked like his grandparents, or the people on the AARP magazines. I was a bit embarrassed to begin but Sheldon leaned over and said the jerks fly was unzipped showing his rubber duck boxers. It's nice having moments that are exclusively ours. It's nice to not be left out, and to be in with him.

Sincerely AFF

You learn a lot about feet when you keep your head down. How someone walks determines their personality, social class, gender. Shoes can be as individual as a piece of hair. By now, Amy was a master of feet. This morning shoes were a pair of thick leathery cowboy boots. The cracks in the leather showed how much they'd been through and the dirt of where they'd been. Their sturdiness was intimidating compared to Amy's soft orthopedic shoe but, hers stood strong.

"Oh, um…I'm sorry, but this seat is taken."Amy said in a mousy voice.

"By who?" The thick necked cowboy slurred back. He slammed his cowboy boot into seat of the chair. Staining it with the smorgasbord of mud, grass, and pig shit. All he needed was a piece of hay hanging from his mouth while chewing a wad of tobacco and he would be a dictionary example of an East Texan hooligan.

"Sheldon." She said.

He looked around partly wondering where Sheldon was, partly wondering who Sheldon was. "Well…he's not here now. But he's on his way and he always sits there…it's kind of his spot."

"Well I don't care if it's his damn bed, I'm sitting here now." Amy's mouth hinged open and closed at his stark rudeness. "Aww what's wrong, dogfight? You upset your boyfriend can't sit with you." He said, noticing her shoulder slump when he plopped his dirty jeans into the seat full of dirt crumbs. He was right, it excited her knowing she would see him everyday. While most of their encounters were filled with engaging conversation or experiments, sometimes him being in the same room as her calmed her down. And today she desperately needed his presence beside her and not in the back of the classroom.

"Amy."

"What?"

"My name is Amy."

"Yea, whatever, dogfight. keep barking." He howled apishly, extended his legs in front of the desk and crossed his arms above his head. He smiled a devilish grin, enjoying his control over her. With one word he could manipulate her emotions, actions, and thoughts. Her arms were practically sore at being the marionette for everyone in her life.

"It's Amy!" She threw herself to her feet which felt like tree roots buried into the ground. She wasn't moving unless she wanted to. "Not dogfight, or hound dog, or any other abominable name you'd enjoy saying behind my back. A-MY! Amy Farrah Fowler." For added dramatic effect she stomped her foot into the ground for each part of her name. And it was powerful. When her foot crashed into the ground it was like drums rolled beneath her. On the final stomp she felt something crack beneath her foot. The more she laid her weight into the ground the more cracks she felt coming from her sole. She lifted her foot and saw the guts of a pen scattered on the ground. The ballpoint burst open leaving inky remnants beside it. While pieces of the body were stuck to her shoe and broken into fragments. One upward piece had the beginning of the phrase "Fowlers About" while the piece attached to her shoe read, "Science". She'd crushed the only physical memory she had of her father. That pen represented the love a man had for his daughter. And her preserving that showed how much she respected and cherished him now that respect lay broken on the ground.

"No!" Amy took in a large breath and began backing up with her hands in surrender. "No, no, no!" She yelled again, diving for the pieces like it was a bloody baby.

"Amy, what's wrong?"Sheldon said approaching the door, noticing the scene ahead. The rest of the class began gathering around watching her like she was a common spectacle. She offered them entertainment but no one offered her comfort. Amy felt a hand rest on her shoulder but pity was the last thing she wanted so she harshly shrugged it off.

"I'm so sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry!" She repeated, muffled into her hands..

"It's a pen. Calm down, jeez." The thick necked guy criticized her volatile outburst.

"You know her and her mother scrounge for clothes at garage sales," an airy voice swept through the commotion, "maybe they don't have money for school supplies. That could have been her only pen." A pair of girls snickered into each other's hair beside her.

"Stop laughing!" Sheldon brandished his voice throughout the room bringing the commotion to a startling end. Amy's quiet sniffles were the first thing to poke the silence."Can't you see something is wrong and all you do is stand there make rude jokes? Just leave her alone. What's wrong with you people." He waved his head from side to side making eye contact with everyone in the room letting them know he was serious. Before he could reach the snickering girls and the thick necked guy they averted their eyes and held their heads low. Cowards.

Sheldon kneeled beside Amy and place his arm around her shoulder while the other one held her hand. Amy mechanically gathered her belongings leaving the pen for last. Her shaky hand lingered over the remains not wanting to touch it. Sheldon's hand moved for hers and he picked up the remnants of the pen, lifted her up and carried her out of the room.

When they crossed the threshold of the school's opening they stopped. Sheldon let go of her shoulder and threw his hands in his pocket, rocking nervously on his heels. He cut his eyes to the side to sneak a glance at Amy. Before he could deduce her emotional state she turned and looked at him. He quickly looked away. He silently counted to 45, cleared his throat, and slowly turned his head to face her again. She was still looking at him. He looked away, again.

"I'm fine." Amy answered the question he was too afraid to ask. "I think I'm just going to go home."She clasped a gentle hand around his wrist and pulled it from his pocket. Turned it upward and prompted his fingers to open. As unfamiliar as it was she ran her fingers along his palm grabbing the handful of pen crumbles. His hand was paralyzed open and straight. Everything was so uncharacteristic that he became comatose as to what to do next."Sorry about that." Amy said, again beating him to the punch.

"A- about what?" He didn't know if she were apologizing for her outburst or their intimate hand moment. Either way her outburst was clearly overdue and the hand gesture was unfamiliar but not unwelcoming. "Actually, whatever you're apologizing for, don't. You haven't done anything wrong to my standards. And I deem most things wrong. But nothing you did was wrong." She wanted his give him a proper thanks. A big one that would say she was truly thankful for everything he's done for her these past weeks. But the emotional wreckage she endured left her feeling like a deflated balloon.

"I'm going to go home now" She said releasing a breath of rotten air.

"Okay."

"…do you mind coming with me?" He wouldn't come, she thought. He was an avid rule follower and school goer and breaking both was unimaginable. But today she didn't need to be alone. She needed his company, his conversation and care. She needed him. It was worth a shot.

"Sure." Amy started down the stairs first and Sheldon followed.