Coarse outlines of I heart question mark
are engraved upon the desk.
The table for two encompasses it’s most difficult task yet:
to form a friendship from complete opposites. Band coat sits silently next to prep kid
contemplating the latest chemistry equation.
As prep kid daydreams, drool dangles slightly.
Band coat turns shoulder, head, eyes
to stare.
Eyes locked to dripping drool,
band coat starts to chuckle.
Feeling her ghastly gaze, prep kid blinks wide
and pulls out unfinished homework.
Silent smiles are exchanged:
the words “copy again?” come from band coat’s mouth.
Moved by embarrassment prep kid
slowly stares over at the assignment across the desk.
The desk both look at with disgust.
The desk both were forced to sit at.
The desk both saw as their worst nightmare.
Days go by as the two silently continue their routine,
but each day that homework is exchanged a little piece of heart goes along with it.
Silent smiles, shared laughs, solved problems
all built upon the desk.

Last day of school.
Last day of the desk.

Band coat turns to prep kid to hand him her yearbook.
Surprise in his eyes, prep kid accepts the gesture.
After writing a quick note, the memory paper
is given back with a longing sigh.
As she turns to walk away, yearbook in hand, she’s tapped on the shoulder. Prep kid hesitates then gives her a hug,
and with one last look at the dirty old desk he leaves.
Resting the memory paper on the desk
that still had traces of dried drool;
band coat opens the last page.
Written in scribbles is:

This turned out different—you and me…but I’m glad it’s not what I thought it’d be.
Call anytime, I’m always here. So long for summer, I’ll see you next year.

And so sighed the desk,
the task was done.
Two unalike people—
their friendship one.