This story is not a romance.
There's love in it, so I suppose you could consider it a love story.
But we don't always get what we want - and that's okay.
Sometimes, the reason something happens to you is so that you can learn
- about yourself, about the world -
and grow.
And that's what this story is about.
***
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
"Hey," the guy across the table from me whispered. Mrs. A had just stepped out of the class to talk to another teacher right outside.
I flinched slightly and looked down as I heard him. I wondered if he'd noticed me staring earlier. The trickle of fresh students into my year had more or less dried up, this late into high school. No one wanted to switch schools with only two years left until graduation, so a new person at this point was rare.
I was curious, naturally. I'd wondered if maybe he'd had problems at his last school, if his family had moved, or if his parents were getting divorced - something like that. I didn't know what that would have had to do with why I'd been staring at him, but my brain goes fuzzy like that sometimes.
Maybe I was hoping to find some information in the tension of the muscles in his neck, or in the sunlight glinting off his lightly tanned skin. Or even the soft, brown hair that framed his face, and the playful glint in his soft, brown eyes.
"Hey," He whispered again. I looked up, and it became clear that he was talking to me.
"Uh, yeah?"
"You're the guy who was friends with Logan Bouchard. Jay, right?"
I hesitated for a second, but then nodded. "Yes."
Logan had left the school at the end of last year, because he kept getting bullied and his parents had wanted an end to it. He'd had a very confrontational personality, without the muscles to back it up, so he tended to bring out the worst in people who weren't otherwise bullies. I wasn't particularly proud of my part in that - I had never joined in, of course. But I had just stood by.
Before I'd landed here at Elohim, I'd been at a public school where I was constantly having problems with that sort of thing. I would have done anything to divert it away from myself, and with Logan there, all it took was getting out of the way. Hanging out with him hadn't seemed to make me a target-by-association, and we'd shared a lot of fairly nerdy interests, so we'd gravitated towards each other - even though I was probably not a great friend.
The new guy grinned, and his smile was broad and contagious. "I'm Marc. I was his neighbor, before they moved. Do you like strategy games?"
I blinked. "Um, yes. It's my favourite genre."
"Awesome. Do you have Sins of a Solar Empire?"
"No." I really, really wanted to though. Don't get me wrong - I'd never heard of it. But I felt like now he was going to stop talking to me. I consoled myself with the fact that it had become a weird conversation, anyway - he didn't give off nerdy vibes, at all. I couldn't quite figure out what a guy who looked so cool wanted from me.
"Sweet." He scribbled down something on the corner of his notepad, and tore it off. "I have a gift copy. Here's my phone number - message me your Steam username, and I'll send it to you and we can play together."
"Oh." I took the scrap of paper from him. "Thank you. That's very nice of you."
He shrugged, and smiled. "I've needed someone to play with since he moved away - different time-zones, you know. He said you were cool, so I thought I'd ask you."
I felt a mild pang of guilt - Logan had no reason to like me that much - but I kept smiling anyway. I was spared the need to reply by Mrs. A barging back into the class and loudly clearing her throat. Our heads snapped back down to our notepads and our question papers, but when she briefly turned her back on the class, I looked up at him and caught his eye, and he grinned at me. My own smile responded, as if of its own accord.
I shoved the piece of paper in my pocket, and got back to work. The class dragged on, and I couldn't help but look up at him every few minutes. He seemed immersed in his work after that, and didn't look up. I found it a bit disappointing, without knowing quite why. When the bell rang, we packed up and made our way out, walking side by side.
"What do you have now?" he asked cheerfully, once we were in the corridor.
"Accounting." I half-groaned at the thought. Ms. Devereaux's classes were legendarily brutal.
"Ah, that sucks. I've got Design." He smiled sympathetically. "Anyway, dude, see you later. Let's maybe play today, if you're not too busy."
"Yeah, absolutely." I grinned like an idiot as he walked away. I stuck my hand in my pocket, and made sure the scrap of paper with his number was still in there. My stomach felt strange - all light and turbulent. Maybe I'd forgotten to eat breakfast.
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