There he was again.

Like a hawk, in any public place she went, he was there. At the opposite sidewalk, roaming the same store, her apartment complex… She could only avoid him inside her own home. In any other case, she would have already filed a case against him, asked police to save her from his stalking.

But… he was her classmate. He was her neighbor. And maybe even a decent acquaintance.

She knew him, even if only a bit.

“Morning, Michael.”

She sighed as she passed him towards the lift, having just left her door to head for class. Michael stared at her blankly for multiple seconds, before he seemed to react to her small talk.

“Good morning, Samantha.”

He would only get near her with small robotic steps, and only once the lift got to their floor. And like a puppy, he would enter it after her, never too close, but never too far. His eyes fixed on her, blinking sparingly; his expression was always a blank. She feared it at first.

However, sharing these routines for months had made her accept he was just himself. A strange person, never harmful, not intentionally. His way of being had never been a fault, not to her.

Samantha sighed, staring at her own reflection. Slowly, she reached for her black, curly hair. Her own skin made her feel a range of emotions that she found all too conflicting through her life. The gazes of some loving. Others, hateful or ignorant.

She knew he had lured the attention of some unkind people.

“So, Michael.” She stopped thinking of such grim things. She just smiled awkwardly at him, glad that he had no hints of sorrow. “Have any plans today? Meet some friends?”

Michael, ever so subtly, gave her a tilt of head. He always did that, seemingly processing every word carefully and with difficulty. The sound of the lift’s descend filled the space between them.

They reached the last floor. She slowed her exit from it, having noticed his mouth open slightly. Knowingly, she placed a hand on the doors to prevent the lift from closing. She waited for him to respond; his hand raised up with a finger, his eyes glancing up in thought.

“My friends are too far. Too busy. I am busy too.”

“What, can’t go visit them back home? No car?” He shook his head innocently. She groaned amicably, pulling him out gently out of the lift. “Come on, you can’t just follow me around town like always! What about going to the library? I saw you there the other day. Maybe you can meet somebody new?”

“I was busy. I am still busy.”

His grades were impeccable, she had to admit. Since he had moved into town and had joined her college, he had shown his talent regarding memorization. Social skills, on the other hand, could be improved.

“Busy, busy, busy. Sure; how the heck do you manage to get all that info into your head with only spending ten minutes in there? You just stare at nothing in class, and follow me around like a duck when possible! You are not really doing anything. You should just… find a hobby and find a new friend!”

Only her steps echoed in the hallway then. She turned and saw that he had stopped on his tracks. His expression was blank, yet something was off. Immediately, she felt bad about what she said.

“Michael, I do not mean that I don’t like you around, I just think that-”

“I would find others if they were worth it.” She relaxed a little. He was not angry, in fact, he seemed energetic. If that was possible, given his usual paused speech. “People here are mean spirited, selfish. I don’t need a hobby; I am busy. My friends know to see true value. And I can too.”

He took the steps he had missed behind her. He stared at her, and it took her a few moments to remember they were supposed to go to class.

“Ah, right…” She sighed once more, regretting he would not even try to fit somewhere. “Fine, just follow me. Just remember you just get all the more attention that way.”

He did not seem to care.

When they got to the gates, they were there. She glared in warning, piercing their smug faces with her eyes. Yet they only smirked and snorted, yelling a slur and an insult past her. Not to her, but Michael.

But as always, she was staring blankly, following her every step, uncaring of any comment.

She just sighed, remembering how they met.

—————————-

 

“Hey, Sammy!” For a moment she closed her eyes. It did nothing to stop time and prevent the words from reaching her. “Nice cotton shirt! Made it yourself?”

She turned around slowly. She fixed her eyes onto the three of them, proudly and without showing hurt. With a sharp smile, she said the truth, plain and simple.

“Well, it IS hand made. Beautiful, a precious gift. Much more detailed and personal than a jacket made for cents in a sweatshop to sell at a high price, I’m sure. Soulless, a waste of money and human value.”

Internally, she made sure to cheerfully note how Kyle’s smirk dropped ever so slightly. He puffed his chest and took a step closer towards her, his two lapdogs proceeding to feign hype for what was to come.

“At least some have money to waste, Sammy.” She never allowed him to give her a nickname. It had never been an issue for him, not in years. “I can afford to get things after enrolling here, while you have to get hand-me-downs to dress. Can you even afford that little flat at the edge of town? Are you eating well enough, or do you need-”

Suddenly, something came into view, for both of them. Both blinked, startled by the guy that sidestepped in front of her, face to face with him. Kyle stopped leaning onto the lockers at his right, looking up to the guy’s face with a continuously raising eyebrow. He stared, and the guy stared back blankly. So blankly that Kyle began to feel uncomfortable. Samantha saw his old known abuser doubt what to say for the first time in years, never having seen anyone step into his antics. Not without joining them.

“What the fuck do you want?”

The guy pondered. He pondered for multiple seconds. When his eyes looked up in thought, Kyle’s lackeys finally reacted, losing their surprise.

“What is he, retarded?”

The guy finally spoke, slowly, but very direct. What he said did not match with his neutral form of speech, for it was very blunt.

“I ask you to cease your harassment. According to societal rules, this can be considered racism. As well, I request that you do not use vulgar words, because they can-”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“-be detrimental.” A pause, as if to process Kyle’s attempted interruption. “My name is Michael. It should be a pleasure to meet you.”

Samantha, who had been frozen, flinched when a loud ring echoed through the hallway. All around them either closed their lockers, stopped chatting or got in their ways, none wanting to miss the first class of the day. Even Kyle glanced behind him, knowing he had to move on for now.

“I’ll…” He luckily avoided cursing, in favor of being subtle. “See you around, new guy.”

Michael did something that only laid him into Kyle’s crosshair even more, forever. He waved them away, without a hint of smile or smirk. Others would have called him a mad lad, if only someone had been paying attention to Samantha’s predicament. No one ever did.

She should have moved too and gone to class. But she stayed put. It took him a couple of seconds to face her, but when he did, she nervously addressed his help.

“Ah… Thank you.” Silence. Staring. She swallowed. “Umm, you said you were?”

He looked up. Before he could waste time thinking of his own name, she spoke up awkwardly.

“Oh, Michael! Yes, you said it yourself, silly me!” She rubbed her neck, glancing at the clock ahead. “You are new, right? I’ll catch up with you later, ok? I have to get going, so-”

She had moved away and grabbed the handle of the nearby door, her class. To her surprise, before she could have said goodbye, he had inched closer to the door too. Not just the door, but her as well, still staring.

“…You have to get in here too.”

She did not ask it, she affirmed it awkwardly. And he did not answer, but nod blankly.

Samantha gave up and just got inside, him right behind her. She thought the weirdness of the day had ended when he stalled and began to look all around the room like a kid in a museum.

Until she heard somebody sit in the empty seat behind her. Right behind her.

Ever so slowly, she moved her head to peek. She met his stare. Which she returned with a nervous smile. Then, she returned her attention to the lesson.

Or she tried. Because all the while, she felt his gaze on her neck. Of all the empty seats in the following chemistry classes, he would take any near her.

And so it was every day since he met her.