Wilhelm Wundt- The Conversation Starter
She stood near the entrance to the class, pretending to sharpen the tip of her pencil. The pencil had long ago been sharpened, the pencil shavings lying as evidence in the dustbin below. Her eyes did their dance, occasionally swivelling discreetly towards the entrance as if afraid they'll miss his arrival.
After 5 whole minutes of pretend-sharpening and her psychology teacher looking pointedly at her, she gave a small sigh and returned to her seat - her heart heavy and her pencil shortened by an inch.
She reached her seat and send one last prayer to whoever was listening. As if the Gods were finally showing some pity on her, he walked into the class just then and after apologising briefly for his tardiness to the teacher, he came and sat on a bench next to hers.
Her heart bounced all the way to Happy-ville and she couldn't help the soft smile that had appeared on her face.
Her teacher had resumed the lecture blabbering something about some 'Wilhelm Wundt'. But she couldn't care less. She had now rested her elbow on the desk and placed her cheek on the palm and was doodling idly in her open notebook while casting secretive glances at him. He was sitting on her right, diligently writing everything that happened to fall out of the psychology teacher's mouth.
After a while, she got annoyed at his lack of interest. But this was nothing new. For the past 6 months this had been her routine. She had first seen him in her F.Y.B.A. History lecture. There was nothing remarkable about him on first glance. He looked like your ordinary, normal, 18 year old boy. But the first time she had seen him crack a smile, it had completely changed her outlook towards him. That was the most heart-warmingly, charming smile she had ever seen and from then on she began to notice all the little details about him. How he ran his hand through his hair when he was nervous, how his eyes darkened to a darker brown when he concentrated hard on something. And how that striking smile of his was the rarest thing ever found on Earth.
He had no friends. Just acquaintances. He would talk to a person or two sometimes but never for more than a minute or two. She thought he preferred to be alone. That didn't sound so encouraging.
Regardless though, she found herself waiting to catch a glimpse of him every day. She had never had the courage to go talk to him. So she just silently admired him.
She sometimes thought about what she would say to him if they ever got to talking.
"Hey! I'm the girl who makes moony eyes at you! Yes, the same one who you think is crazy because when you once asked her to move out from your way she just stood there looking stupidly at you."
Hmm. Probably not the best opening line.
Maybe she could crack a joke or something.
Why couldn't Cinderella be a good soccer player?
Because she lost her shoe, she ran away from the ball, and her coach was a pumpkin.
Ha Ha.
Or maybe she could just die.
Who was she kidding? He was probably unaware of her existence.
Her mental thoughts were intruded upon when the teacher sharply called out her name.
She stood up and could feel everybody's eyes upon her. Even his.
"Who was Wilhelm Wundt?" the teacher asked.
She stared blankly back at her, unable to answer.
The teacher looked expectantly at her, waiting for her to answer.
She racked her brain but for the life of her she couldn't remember a single word about him.
"Father of Psychology." A voice whispered softly to her.
She looked sharply at the source of the sound and was stunned to find out it was him.
He looked encouragingly at her.
She mumbled the answer to the teacher who found it satisfactory enough.
She sat down, stunned at what had just happened.
Had he just spoken to her? Was all this happening for real? Did he just help her out? Should she thank him?
She turned towards him but saw that he was back to his book, completely ignoring her. She stared at him for a little while hoping he would look at her but no such luck.
She went back to her doodling, dejected.
The bell rang, indicating the end of the lecture. She began gathering her things from her desk and stood up to leave.
"You're welcome." She turned around to see him looking at her with a tiny smile on his face.
"Thank you." She managed to mumble. At least she didn't just stop and stare at him stupidly like the previous time.
She looked into his eyes, not sure what else she could say to him. She contemplated telling him the joke but just as quickly dismissed that idea.
She should just run away. Anything would be better than just standing here like a mute statue.
"I'm Swayam, by the way." He said.
Her face broke into a dazzling smile and she managed to curb it just enough so it wouldn't seem like she was mentally retarded. He was talking to her!
"I'm..." she started saying.
"Sharon. I know." He said, smiling that rare smile of his.
And here she thought she didn't exist for him.
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