His name is Luis.
He had a half dozen or so white scars on his tan arm,
I struggled to force my fingers to quickly run over his arm,
a quick touch that meant so much, and he knew too.

He didn't react to this, he looked at my fingers on his arm.
That was it, and I decided to show him what it meant to me.
I turned so my left shoulder faced him, rolled my t-shirt sleeves up, like I was hot, and I was.
It took him 5 minutes to notice, or to say something.
He didn't touch me, he ran the edge of his phone against my shoulder and scars purposefully, 3 times and said 'arm' the last 2 times.
There were no words exchanged, other than 'arm'.
I didn't look up when he did this, I kept my eyes on my book.

It was surreal in all the chaos of school.
It wasn't forced.
It was settled.
We both accepted the way it was.

On the way out
I wanted to grab his arm, and tell him that I was so sorry.
And now I really wish I had...
It has so much meaning
so much sadness.

It rips my heart open every time it happens.