My Soul to Keep - By Sean Hayden Page 0,21

did about it.

“Joy. Lead on, MacDuff.”

“Who?”

“Never mind,” she said with a giggle sounding vaguely like music.

“Um, I’ve never done this before. Would it be easier for you to hold on to my arm or do you want to walk and I’ll just tell you about stairs and stuff?”

“Ooh, a handicapped virgin. This is always fun.” She didn’t sound bitter, more like teasing. I wondered how many “virgins” she had to deal with. “Since it’s the first day and I have absolutely no idea as to how this place is laid out, would you mind if I hang on to your arm?”

“Not at all,” I said with minimal cracking in my voice. The thought of actually touching Jessica sent my heart into overdrive. I could practically hear it in my ears.

I held my arm out to her and waited. It took me about a minute to realize she couldn’t see it. I reached down with my right hand and gently grabbed hers to pull it on top of my waiting arm.

As soon as my fingertips touched her skin, my heart went from fast to threatening to jump out of my chest and run a marathon. There weren’t any sparks of electricity like you see in the movies, rather a quiet feeling of power, belonging, home, safety, and chocolate. I didn’t want to let go. Ever.

I heard Jessica give a little gasp and I hoped it meant she felt it too. I pulled her hand closer to me and spread her fingers over my wrist to let her know I would guide her. She closed her fingers on my wrist and I concentrated very hard on the linoleum floor beneath me, the sunlight coming through the window, and the smells surrounding us. Anything to take my mind off the feeling of her hand on my arm. I took one small step forward to let her know which way we were going and she took a step to match mine.

“How far is our first class?”

“Not far, just up the stairs and to the left. Mr. Johnson is our teacher, nice guy for a troll.”

That earned me a short burst of her musical laughter and I smiled. They needed to make a recording of her laugh and play it for the criminally insane. I’m sure they would be cured within a week.

We made it up the stairwell without her falling. I sighed with relief when we made it. I won't lie, I was worried. The strangest thing about the whole situation was the reason for my fear. I was more afraid she would get hurt than that the whole school would see me drop the blind girl down the stairs. Luckily everyone already started first period and the stairs were relatively vacant. I probably would have dropped her if I had to maneuver her through a torrent of students.

Mr. Johnson had his back to the class and furiously scribbled archaic algebraic equations on the green blackboard (why are blackboards green?) like some sort of magic spell. I know it’s just numbers, but when I looked at it spread out in all its glory, it looked more like Sanskrit or Cuneiform than math. Either way it hurt my head.

“You’re late, Mr. Sullivan. Please take your seat,” Mr. Johnson said without turning around. Apparently he didn’t get the memo about getting a new student.

“We have a new student, sir.”

He turned and gave me an annoyed look before realizing she was blind. The depth of her handicap hit me. How would she do her home work, take tests, follow along on the blackboard? I hated algebra with a passion, but at least I could see it. I can only imagine how difficult it must be for Jessica.

“Welcome to our classroom Ms…”

“James. Jessica James.” I stifled a giggle and vowed to start calling her Jessie. It became sort of a moral imperative.

“Shut up,” Jessie whispered out of the side of her mouth. She must have heard the beginnings of my laugh.

“Well, there just happens to be an empty desk next to Mr. Sullivan. Why don’t you sit there and we’ll get back to the lesson?”

I nodded at Mr. Johnson and took a tentative step toward the pair of desks in the middle of the room. Jessica felt the tug of my arm and took a step to match mine. Maybe this would be easier than I thought. I walked her to the opening at her desk and as soon as her cane clanked against the metal leg, she