Radar

Jude had once heard that alcoholics always knew where the liquor was at parties and how much was around; well, he always knew where Anne was.  Right now she was on the other side of the room, near the window.  He didn’t do it consciously.  He’d just look up, glance around, locate her, and resume whatever he was doing.  He didn’t stare, or follow her if she left the room, but he’d know if she came back.  She was in his class; it would’ve been hard to pretend she didn’t exist.  

Their high school was running a program where juniors and seniors went to a local elementary school to hang out/pair up/help out with some little kids.  The current focus was arts and crafts.  Jude was near the back wall with a little boy who was consumed with using a pair of safety scissors to cut a figure out of construction paper.  Anne was with her kid, also a boy, and they were making some sort of tower with popsicles and glue--lots of glue.  

As his kid ignored him, Jude remembered the times he’d spoken to her.  Her attention was something that could not be caught very often in full; basically, it was hard to catch her alone.  Then, if he managed to do that, he never said anything interesting.  He couldn’t make her laugh, he didn’t like the same things she did.  He’d been forced to give up or continue his embarrassment.  He chose to let it go, but apparently he was still tuned into the radio signal that was her presence.  Which is why he was paying attention when the popsicle tower of glue started to lean.

At first, he thought it was a trick in the corner of his eye.  Then he watched, and it was definitely about to topple--it was at that stage where it goes into slow-mo before it crashes.  Mobilizing, Jude vaulted over the three desks in the way like an Olympic medal winner.  His sneakers squealed as he hit the floor and grabbed the sticky tower, which would’ve gone right for Anne’s hair.  

She turned at the sound and saw him grab the glue-covered mess just in time.  His only reward was sticky hands, a smile, and a few words of thanks, but in his world, the later two were worth millions.