He sits in the library
at lunch,
flicking through books with loads of pictures
in them.
I see him on Wednesday
when I go in there with Shawna to
copy her homework.
He looks up,
but before he can wave or call out my name,
I turn my back on him.
And then on Thursday
Liz wants to photocopy some form for her mum
and he’s in there again,
different book,
same lonely look.
I just peer through the window on Friday,
and of course he’s there again,
turning the pages
of some big book,
his eyes really wide.
‘What you staring at?’ Meg asks,
spooking me from behind.
‘You know him or something?’ she asks,
spotting Nicu.
‘No,’ I say quickly.
‘Why would I?’
She snorts.
‘Yeah, it’s not as if you speak Polish or anything?’
‘Exactly,’ I say,
and we laugh,
like friends,
so loudly that Nicu turns.
He sees us.
And so I stop.
I stop laughing.