A romance

As the days continued near the end of the year, I only saw him take glances. Most boys would check a girl out willingly, especially one they like, but I only saw small glances. I think that it was because he didnt want to creep anyone out, but he couldnt withhold his own curiosity. I didnt see him do it to many other people, but it was something that struck me. It was cute really, the tall, graceful fencer (in which I did learn later on that he did fencing or sword fighting), yet from time to time, clumsy, would be careful enough not to look at a girl that may possibly like him. 

At the end of some orchestra practices, I would simply say bye to him as we left the room. He merely responded with a bye of his own, but instead of a strong, or confident bye, he merely said it softly and moved on. Not softly that someone couldnt hear it; rather, it was the soft goodbye that someone said when they are filled with determination, but it wasnt a strong determination that most people associate with it, rather, a wise, yet sad determination. As Henry David Thoreau once said, "men lead lives of quiet desperation", which could be applicable to him, but I feel like it wasnt quite that.

Theres something off with that definition when it applied to him. When one would stare into his eyes, it was like staring at the universe. If you take a look at it once, you could see it like a razor, sharp, focused, and able to cut down anything. Other times, it was a sad look that haunted his eyes, the type of look that you see from people who have truly suffered in their lives. At other times, it was a mere reflection. Perhaps he merely reflected on all of what we could not see. All of this, put into a  young 17 year old would make him seem more like a wiseman than anything else. 

Anyways, to put off my tangent of how he seems, I remember this one event clearly, which shows probably one of the most contrasting elements about him. 5 boys approached him as he was working in the library. 

"Charlie, that money you owe Will, you owe to me. He owes me $5 and since you owe him $5, you will pay me that money", he said. 

"I dont owe you shit. I paid back the $2 that I borrowed from Will", Charlie said. 

"Im not inclined to trust the person in debt. You will give me the money", he said. 

"Or what?"

"Or we will have to take it out of you", he said. 

"Fine. Come over and take it". As the boy (who I didnt know his name) came over, Charlie punched him as hard as he could, and while the boy was dazed, Charlie grabbed him and put his arm over his shoulder so that he was effectively cutting off his airway, while holding a sharp pencil to the throat of the boy. 

A whisper that still puts goosebumps on me elicited from the mouth of the normally shy and quiet Charlie. 

"If you ever decide to threaten me again, ill make it so that all you feel is pain. If any of your friends threaten me, ill sear this pencil into your carotid artery. You fucks know what happens when the carotid artery is seared?", he said in a slighter louder voice. "The person bleeds out. Now get out of my way". 

Charlie held the boy there for about 30 seconds longer until he was safely out of way, and then calmly walked out of the library, with his arms behind his back in a pose that resembled a wise man that knew everything about anything. I followed him out the door, and he walked down a narrow hallway, and then suddenly turned around and pushed me against the wall. 

I wont deny it. That was a time where the fear inside of me was rampant. The look inside of his eye was cold and merciless, like a shark, but it was only there for a moment. His eyes softened and he immediately released me. 

"Im sorry. I thought you were one of them", he said, softly. Again, his own persona came back to him. Not the strong and confident Charlie that faced down 5 boys, but the soft one. The one that had feelings; the one that cared about the people around him. 

"It was brave that you were able to stand up to them", I said. 

"Was it? There are many things I cant do, and fighting back isnt something Id say is something brave. But thank you, regardless", he replied. "Ive got to be going, goodbye, Irene". 

Did he mean something by that? Was it somehow indicative on his fear of asking me out, that is, if he actually liked me? 

Charlie Baker was again, a curiosity that was strange in the fact he didnt act like any of the other boys that ive seen.