If an entire year of AP American History taught by a man who received his doctorate in Post-Reconstruction South has taught me one thing, it’s how to talk to Matt across the room without getting caught.
No really, we’re good.
We know about four words in sign language, and if recombining the words "grandmother", "groovy", "beautiful," and "dead", isn’t working, we’ve developed mad lip-reading skills.
Once, Matt just could not communicate the word to me. As much as he mouthed it, I didn’t understand. To others, it must have looked like ritualistic lip-exercises. So finally, he had to say it out loud.
"Pheromones," he said.
The funny thing is, people who didn’t know he was talking to me thought he didn’t realize he said it. They thought he was just thinking out loud.
I wonder what they daydream about
The Past Stranger Than Fictions
Why Not? I'm nice, really!
© 1997
