This is Part 12 of the story of How I Met Superman. To get caught up, you can find the preceding chapters here.

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Over the next couple of weeks, I constantly looked for Superman at school. He never approached me during the school day. Instead, I’d see him leaning against the handrails at the band room, where he and his fellow drummers – Wade*, Tommy*, Orly*, and a handful of other boys – would laugh with each other and watch the girls go by.

But after school, he would find me, and take my books, and my heart would still, and he’d say, “Are you walking home?”

We learned more and more about each other during those walks. I was fascinated by his family: His mother came from Mexico, his father from Spanish-speaking southern Texas. They made enchiladas and menudo and tortillas from scratch on a regular basis. He told me his father had been in the military and then worked in the defense industry, and they moved around a lot when he was a kid. Subsequently, he felt very close to his older two brothers, who stood in as best friends in all those brand-new schools. I liked how close he was with his family. I liked how close he felt to his friends. He seemed to always be giving people things – money for lunch, a forgotten book to borrow, time after school – and I instantly loved that generosity about him.

But one of the afternoons, before walking home, he didn’t come find me. Continue reading →