Jim opened his locker the following week. His backpack was heavy on his shoulders, and he was eager to remove some weight from them. He placed the bag on the floor with a thud and kneeled. He pulled open the lock to drop off his spelling book and subtraction flashcards. He swung the door open, and his eye caught a small, white piece of paper. 

••

Her stomach rolled, squeezed, stretched, and shrieked. Pam’s tummy was never as sensitive as Penny’s, but her tummy was picky. It refused even the sight of food at school. It wasn’t the food that made her mind fill with thick, vacuous fog. It was the eyes. The eyes surrounding her, searching for her next mistake and waiting to humiliate her. Shades of blue, hazel, brown, and green seemed to all be on her, yet her peers’ faces not even facing her. She wanted to remain inconspicuous, to blend in with the walls and get lost in the sea of students. Her mom had meticulously packed her an array of choices and options. Goldfish in a small ziplock bag and blueberries in a plastic container. It only made her tummy twist more to knows she was upsetting her mom who desperately wanted her to eat her lunch. Yet, she felt as if the whole world was watching her, everything seemed to be zoned in on her. The minute she lifts the container or crackled the zip lock bag, it felt as if the noises were overwhelming and squealing from attention. It seemed as if their eyes searched for a mistake and failures. Waiting for her to screw up, then broadcast it to the world. Eating seemed like a straight path to messing up in every corner. As if a nibble could be held to her forever. Her mind set an alarm off, cautioning her every move. The ball of hunger that once sat in her stomach at each mealtime stopped coming for lunchtime, as it learned that it would not be appeased. The worry of chewing wrong or too loud was too great, interrupting any calls and rumbles from her stomach that were desperate for a bite. The truth was, no one was watching her. Except someone was. 

••

Jim carefully straightened out the edges of the paper, revealing the image drawn. It was a sketch of two swings. The swings were drawn in motion, one being held back as the other rushed forwards. Yet, they were in harmony. One holding back words, with another full of anecdotes and thoughts, openly shared without restriction in perfect accordance. The drawing was monotone, yet his eyes filled in eye space with the color of the scene, bringing it to life. The swing pulled back was drawn stiff and with tight lines, the forward one with looser, braver graphite lines. 

Jim knew then, that just because Pam was comfortable in her silence, it didn’t mean she wanted to be next to silence. He noted his mistake, and made a mission to fix it in any tiny way he could.

••

Pam sat down at lunch the next day, keeping her eyes locked on her fingertips which were shakily flattening each wrinkle in her skirt. Jim’s eyes met her for a brief second, the contact shattering as her mind reeled. He averted his eyes quickly as he caught onto her discomfort. Yet, he continued to walk towards her. Fractions of Pam argued about their hopes of the approaching peer. As the sound of his footsteps increased, so did the sound of her heartbeat. 

Jim sat once he saw that she approved of his choice of seating in the cafeteria. He placed the tin lunchbox onto the table gently, avoiding any loud noises. He unclipped the hinges, to reveal his lunch. Set in the center, cushioned by his sandwich and an icepack, was a container of mixed berry yogurt. He had checked for it twice since putting it in the box to reassure himself it was there and to continue with his plan. He lifted the colder-than-room-temperature yogurt with shiny, exaggerated berries on the front and placed it in front of Pam.