When I First Noticed Her

I don’t know when I first noticed her.

She wasn’t outspoken—always shy, quietly walking through the school halls on her way to class. She didn’t hang with the popular crowd; in fact, I think she often avoided them. At lunch, she usually sat with a small group of people—if I had to guess, friends she knew well enough to feel comfortable around.

Yet there was a loneliness in her eyes, something visible even behind her glasses.

To me, she was beautiful.

She had dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a light golden-bronze complexion. Granted, she wasn’t thin, but her curves suited her.

The few times I spoke to her were only in passing, though she always smiled at me.

Monday through Friday, I’d see her board the school bus while I headed toward my car in the student parking lot. A few times, I wanted to ask if she’d like a ride home—but I never did.

As for me… I was just your average kid: brownish-blond hair, brown eyes, and a beige complexion that tanned easily. I wasn’t a jock, nor was I a rich boy from the upper-middle-class side of town. I was reasonably smart, but definitely no nerdy genius—just a foreign exchange student from England.

It was Friday afternoon, and the bell had just rung, signaling the end of the school day. Unfortunately, it was raining—and raining hard. As I made my way to the student parking lot, I saw her heading toward the front of the school where the buses waited.

“Chandra!” I called out.

She turned and looked at me as I walked over.

“Hey, Brian,” she said.

“Chandra, could I give you a ride home?” I asked.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Alright then,” she said, and together we headed toward the student parking lot.

II

She was quiet as we pulled out onto the street. Before I started the car, she told me where she lived.

I turned on the radio. My choice of music was heavy metal. I was about to ask if she wanted to listen to a different station, but she seemed to be enjoying it, so I left the radio alone.

“So, you like heavy metal?” I asked.

“Yeah, some of it. I mostly listen to jazz, pop, and dance,” she said.

“Do you like techno?” I asked.

She smiled. “Actually, I do.”

“Awesome,” I said.

I slipped in a CD, and a pulsing techno track began to play. She smiled, gently bobbing her head to the beat.

“So, will your parents say anything about me bringing you home?” I asked.

“They’ll just ask who you are,” she said.

“Your dad isn’t going to come out with a shotgun, is he?” I asked nervously.

“No,” she said. Then, more quietly, “Actually, my father died when I was ten.”

“Oh… I’m sorry,” I said.

“It’s okay,” she replied, offering a shy smile.

For the rest of the drive, we talked about many things—music, the books she liked to read, movies, family, and more. The conversation flowed easily, and the silence between topics felt comfortable rather than awkward.

At one point, she removed her glasses and reached into her purse, pulling out a cleaning cloth to wipe the lenses. Without them, I could see her eyes more clearly—those beautiful shades of brown. After cleaning them, she put her glasses back on. She looked lovely both with and without them.

Soon, we pulled up to her house, and the rain had stopped.

“Thanks for the ride, Brian,” she said.

“No problem,” I replied. “If you don’t mind, maybe I could pick you up on Monday and bring you home.”

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said.

I suddenly grabbed my notebook from my backpack, tore out a page, and wrote my phone number on it. I handed it to her. Still stunned, she took it from me.

“Thanks,” she said.

“You’re welcome—and give me a call anytime,” I replied with a smile.

She smiled back.

“I will,” she said.

With that, she closed the car door and walked toward the front door of her house. I stayed where I was until she went inside. Before disappearing, she turned and waved. I waved back, then drove off.

III

Saturday morning found me still in bed, wide awake. All night, my thoughts had been on Chandra. Just then, my phone rang, and I answered it.

“Hello,” I said.

“Brian?” a voice asked.

“Yeah?” I replied.

“It’s Chandra.”

A huge smile spread across my face.

“Hey, Chandra. How are you?” I asked.

“I’m good,” she said, though I could hear the nervousness in her voice.

“Would you like to hang out today?” I asked.

“Yes, I would. That’s actually why I was calling,” she said. “I thought maybe we could go to the mall or head to Neon Technia—the local arcade.”

“I’d love that,” I said.

I glanced at the clock. It was 10:49 a.m.

“I can be at your house in twenty minutes,” I said.

“I’ll be waiting,” she replied.




◾◾◾◾

We headed to Neon Technia. Inside, it was everything you’d expect from an arcade—rows of video games, skill games, and ticket machines. There was also a café with a standard menu: pizza, hot dogs, tacos, nachos, chicken nuggets, cheese sticks, and more.

We played a few games, ate, and talked.

I could tell she was quite shy. I took her hand and gently held it. We looked at each other and smiled.

“So, what part of England are you from?” she asked.

“Essex,” I replied.

“How long are you here?” she asked.

“Just for one semester,” I said.

“So, what is your host family like?” she asked.

“Actually, I’m staying with my aunt and uncle. My Aunt Sabrina is from England. When she heard about the school’s exchange program, she arranged for me to study here for the semester,” I replied.

“That’s great,” she said.

“Yeah. I have to say, America is quite different,” I said.

“True—merits and flaws,” she said with a smile.

I lifted her hand and kissed it. She blushed.

“Chandra, you’re so beautiful,” I said softly.

“Thank you. You’re handsome,” she replied.

“Chandra, starting Monday… could I walk you to your classes? Or at least some of them?” I asked.

She smiled. “I’d love that.”

I moved closer, losing myself in her eyes—and for once, I didn’t care if I never found my way back.






◾◾◾◾

Monday morning, I picked her up, and we headed off to school. I walked her to her first class.

Throughout the day, I walked her to two more classes, and we had lunch together. I joined her and her lunch friends, and we all got along well.

All week, it was like that—escorting her to class, having lunch with friends, and taking her home afterward. On the weekends, we talked on the phone or spent time together. We found ourselves enjoying each other’s company, and before long, we became a couple.

We were both happy. But there were issues.

One of them was the popular girls. They began giving Chandra dirty looks and speaking cruelly about her. I wasn’t blind or deaf to any of it, and I defended her. Chandra and I soon realized they were simply jealous—but for all the wrong reasons.

They assumed that because I was an exchange student, I must come from a wealthy or upper-middle-class background. They were clearly disappointed to learn that I was from a working-class family—and that neither of my parents drove a Jaguar or an Aston Martin.

But there were other issues, too—mostly because I was Caucasian and she was Black. There were ugly words and uglier looks, but we chose to ignore them. We also had people who supported us.

My aunt and uncle, along with Chandra’s family. I was welcomed into her home, and she was welcomed into mine. And for a while… we were happy.

◾◾◾◾

My semester was over, and it was time for me to leave.

I was given the option to stay. My aunt and uncle even offered to help me apply for citizenship. But I needed to return home. I had plans—plans that required me to go back to England.

Chandra was heartbroken, but she understood.

I didn’t want to leave her. I had fallen madly in love with her. But we were young, and we both needed time to grow. And so, with heavy hearts, Chandra and I had our last date at Neon Technia.

A few days later, I boarded a plane back to England. Before I left, I promised Chandra that I would write to her as often as I could, and she promised to do the same. Still, we both knew that, in time, the letters would fade.

I kissed Chandra goodbye, walked down the terminal, and boarded the plane. I didn’t know if I would ever see her again—that was something only God knew.

I prayed that He would keep her safe. And if I were never meant to be part of her life again, I asked that He bless her with someone who would love her for all that she is—the good and the bad.
I loved her so much.

After I prayed, I cried. I was going to miss her.

IV

It is years later. I am now a business consultant with my own consulting firm, traveling all over the world. Yet despite my success, I have not fallen in love.

Make no mistake—I did meet someone after I returned to England. In fact, I met many women. I dated for a while, and at twenty-eight years old, I got married. However, the marriage only lasted three years, and we had no children. I never married again, though I got engaged many times.

At the moment, I am back in America—in the city of Denver, Colorado.

I had been asked to oversee the hiring of new employees for a huge tech company. It is while I am sightseeing through the city that I see her: Chandra.

She is still wearing glasses, and her body hasn't changed much. The only difference is that her hair is now short, but that's fine. She is still beautiful.

As for myself, I am a little bulky, but not overly so. My hair is now long, and I keep it pulled back when I need to be professional. Ironically, I am wearing glasses myself. My heart beats frantically as I slowly make my way to where she is standing.

“Chandra!” I call out.

She turns and smiles.

“Brian!”

I feel my legs moving faster, and soon I am standing before her. We smile at each other.

“Brian,” she says with a smile.

“Hello, Chandra,” I say as I take her hand and kiss it.

I look at her hand. No ring.

“I'm divorced,” she says.

“As am I,” I say.

I pull her closer to me. I look into those beautiful brown eyes.

“I've missed you,” she says.

“And I've missed you,” I say.

Suddenly, tears begin to fall from her eyes. I remove her glasses and wipe them away.

“I love you,” I say.

“I love you too. Can we... pick up where we left off?” she says, her voice cracking.

I smile as I softly kiss her.

“Yes, let's do that. And this time, we will spend the rest of our lives together,” I say as tears fall from my eyes.

Epilogue

A five-month courtship turned into marriage. I still travel the world, but Chandra comes with me. She has become my assistant, a role she decided to take on, much to my surprise. We also do many things together: write, read, and listen to music. She had gotten into heavy metal, but now loves classical music. I have come to love jazz, and it is the type of music we often listen to when we are alone.

It is nighttime, and inside a hotel room, Chandra and I are in bed. I am awake while she sleeps in my arms. As I look at her, I count myself blessed that we were reunited. Clearly God saw fit for us to find each other again, and here we are. I look out the window as the moonlight streams into the room and whisper a silent prayer of gratitude.

Afterward, I close my eyes and drift off into a blissful sleep.

“Amen,” she says softly.

I chuckle as I realize that she heard my prayer.

“Amen”