1/6/2018 0 Comments Summer school friendsShort Story We met in summer school. My parents noticed I didn’t learn how to read as quickly. I still relaxed my hair then and he locked his. Shorter than me, his interesting exterior didn’t shy him from them crowd. Hardware to straighten his over bite, glasses to correct his vision and summer school classes to correct his speech.
“Wwwwon’t you sing to me?” he’d ask every girl he came across, “Wwwwon’t you sing me my name?” Over hearing his mother explain to teacher of how he heard someone like him in a movie, and he took to those words like spare change. He wasn’t stupid, slow or dumb. He wasn’t oblivious to the meaning of his question. That was all part of his charm. “How about you give me a melody?” I found courage to ask, “ and we make music after class.”
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