"What if its him?" Diane Johansen said, pointing in his direction and laughing. She started doing a dead-on impersonation of Jimmy.house Inflatable Advertising I couldn’t help but laugh as Diane talked with a stutter and shook, as Jimmy often did. I instantly regretted it. I looked at him. I didn’t see love or admiration in his eyes, I saw pain.
Throughout the rest of the day I kept thinking about Jimmy. He had lived across the street from me for years, yet I knew so little about him. I remembered my mother telling me to be nice to him when I was younger. She said that he needed a friend. When I asked her why he acted so different, she told me that his mother had done bad things when she was pregnant with him. It wasn’t until I was older that I really understood this. I would occasionally wave at him on the street, but not if my friends were with me. I tried to make myself feel better by thinking that I had at least treated him better than others had.
Jimmy was pleasantly interesting. Sometimes I could see in his room through his window as I passed by. He was often playing his guitar, or sitting at his desk writing. After I got the note, I wondered if he had been writing things for me. From then on I tried to see Jimmy through the window. It was my only way of looking into his world. I wondered if my admirer had ever done the same.
One evening, I got a call from Christy.
"I think I know who your admirer is!" she shrieked.
My heart pounded. "Who?"
"You’re not going to believe this, but I think its Russell Moore! At church I overheard him say you were cute! Can you believe it?"
There was a long silence.
"Well, aren’t you excited?" she asked.
"I guess," I said.
"Who do you want it to be?" she asked.
I couldn’t think of anyone but Jimmy so I said that I didn’t know.
Later that evening, I considered writing Jimmy a letter. I thought I could be an 'admirer' myself. He thinks I hate him. He thinks I’m like everyone else. What if I don’t get the chance to tell him different? But I decided against it. I guess I wasn’t as brave as my secret admirer was. It was strange. I wondered if I was falling in love with him. All of a sudden I wanted to see him, talk to him, hear his voice. I wondered why I felt that way.
The next day was the day of the prom. I woke up that morning feeling nervous. I could’ve cared less about the dance, it was where I was going afterwards that I was thinking of.
The decorations at the dance were beautiful. The music was great. But I couldn’t enjoy myself. I was restless up until I left at 11:45. I began walking towards the park. Although it was May, it was a cool evening. A breeze stirred the branches of the trees. I wrapped my jacket tight around me. Then I spotted a small park bench where I decided to wait.
Thirty minutes passed and he still hadn’t arrived. Maybe no one was coming in the first place, I thought, maybe he doesn’t exist. I let a few tears slip out, then told myself I wouldn’t cry.
Just then I got a call on my cell phone from Christy. She sounded upset.
"Marly!" she shouted, "Jimmy McAllister was in an accident by the school! He’s hurt really bad!"
"Oh my God!" I exclaimed choking on tears. "I’ll be right there."
I tried to run, blinded by tears. I tripped a few times but finally made it back to the school. I saw that his truck had slid into a ditch alongside the school. They were carrying Jimmy into the ambulance on a stretcher. I don’t know what made me do it, but I looked inside his badly damaged truck. Laying on the seat was a red rose. Attached to the rose was a card that read, 'for Marly.'