That Girl

• David Tighe, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2011

I’ll never forget that girl who joined our class.
She came and went within the space of three days. But for some reason her presence imprinted itself in my memory, and it became a thing that I would never forget.
I was never quite sure as to WHY I remembered her so well. It wasn’t because I loved her; no, that was definitely not it.
It was the way she acted, I think. Her poise and grace, but seemingly indifferent nature. Not one to speak out very often; although that could be expected of any nervous new student at any school.
She was a quiet, intense girl, who always finished her work before anyone else. Yet, it was odd; she never made an effort to befriend anyone.
I’m sure she would have been able to make friends easily; she looked like the type who could. Blonde hair, cute eyes, nice smile (not that I’d seen her smile more than twice).
I could never understand her. Oh, I tried! The second day she was here I walked up to her, outstretched my hand and said, “Hi, welcome to our school. My name’s Frank”.
She stared blankly at my hand for a few seconds, as if it were a foreign device that she had no interest in working out, then smiled, took my hand and simply said “Hi”.
I would have pushed her further, asked her for her name and talked about how she was going, but something about her told me that that would have only made things more awkward for both me and her.
On the third day, I heard her speak for the first time. It was just before recess, when she asked if she could be excused to go to the toilet. She had a trance-like voice, one that made you stop and listen the first time you heard it.
Even though she was a silent girl, she always seemed to convey her emotions and opinions quite accurately. For example, when I asked her whether she was enjoying her new school, she simply looked at me, inclined her head as if she were thinking carefully about this answer, and then gave a slight nod of the head. This answered the question, but again I was left wondering why she rarely spoke.
The day after her third day, she didn’t show up, but our class thought that she must’ve been sick. However, after a few days of her absence, I realised that she mustn’t have liked our school after all, and had moved on.
That girl never did leave my memory. She is there, and sometimes I just can’t help and think about her mysterious nature. She came and went within the space of three days, but her short time left a long-lasting memory.

And it’s funny; I never did learn her name.