For CL
You've pushed me out of my comfort zone in ways you'll never know.
It's dumb. She should be studying, but she can hardly call this studying. She might be reading through her notes, but it's not studying if her mind is a million miles away. It's Wednesday, and she knows that Zay has ballet class this afternoon at the little corner studio just a few blocks from his house. She wonders if he's wearing his purple hoodie or the black one from his favorite band. They both look so good especially with his black checkered gym bag. She does like his button-up shirts, but it's always nice when he wears something out of the ordinary…
She wishes he would take the short subway ride up to her apartment. It'd be so nice to have company while she studies for her astrophysics final. Astrophysics is not his subject, but surely he could bring his own backpack and pull out something of his own to work on. Maybe she could even help him with it! She shakes her head. It's a dumb idea. There's no way she could focus better were he here. Trying to study side-by-side would quickly disintegrate into aimless conversation. She knows her own self-control when it comes to talking to people whose company she enjoys—it's none. Still, it'd be nice to sit and talk to him. Perhaps when she was done (make that if she was done), she'd feel more like studying. If she's honest, she knows she wouldn't shut up until he left again and was as gone as he is now. Everyone always compliments her on being so well spoken, and perhaps that has something to do with her superior intelligence, but she has always known she likes the sound of her own voice.
Zay never being far from her mind has been a common thread lately. It's getting so ridiculous and frankly rather cumbersome. She has been trying to not be obsessed lately, but if she's honest, she admits whatever she's doing is not working. The thought of him travels with her throughout the day like a friendly insect she can't quite flick off. She has his schedule memorized, and million times a day, her brain stops her to ask where he is. A million times a day, she answers back accurately down to perhaps the hour. Every time she asks herself where he is, she sees him in her mind's eye—at home, in class, at dance, riding the subway, or walking the streets of the city. As weird as it sounds, there's this parallel reality where he's always nearby. Right now, he's in the corner studying—holding his finger to his lips whenever she ventures a word. At bedtime, he's there to sing her to sleep. In the morning, he's checking his phone and begging her to make sure she eats enough breakfast so she's not cranky at lunchtime. It's dumb. She's never been so obsessed she was almost delusional before.
She can't pinpoint an exact date when this all started although it probably was sometime last summer. She just knows it's been growing and growing since then, and now it's too big to ignore. She honestly is not sure what to do with it half the time. She never was this obsessed with Farkle. Maybe her Farkle smile always stretched so wide it hurt her face, and he always made her heart flip flop in her chest. Yet, she was content to let him go to robots club or eat dinner with his family or have a guys day with Lucas and Zay. She missed him, yes, but it was this happy ache that made her feel alive. With Zay, it's so different she would hardly consider it the same feeling. It's like he looms so large he has practically taken over her brain, and when he's gone, all the alerts in her brain go off. It's dumb when she sees him every day at school, and they have home economics together and always eat lunch at the same table. Still, it's never enough. She always ends the day with her brain full to bursting with everything she didn't get to tell him. She wants to tell him everything, and cliche as it sounds her heart echoes the lyrics of the Fleetwood Mac song in wanting to be with him everywhere.
She felt like she was going to fall apart when his grandma passed away unexpectedly in October, and he was in Texas for a whole entire week. The city although as full as ever had never felt more empty, and she wondered how she'd get through until he returned. It felt selfish to think of herself when he was the one grieving a loss, but she wanted to argue that she was suffering a loss too. Zay was gone, and nothing would be right in her world until he returned. She listened to every song that reminded her of him repeating every word until they were all written on her heart, and she counted down the days and the last day the hours too until he returned. That was when she knew that she was done for, and there was no recovering from it.
She still doesn't have a good answer for why. Farkle was her first love, the one she had chosen as being perfect for herself, yet she can't shake the feeling that Zay is the one she'll never forget. Maybe it's because he's not Farkle? Maybe it's because love isn't a matter of finding someone who checks all the boxes? She'd be quick to blame her Asperger's for not understand it, but maybe she's just too young to have it all figured out. She just knows he's so not Farkle. His grade point average is so low her past self would have considered it appalling. It's somehow not appalling to her now. It's this strange sort of endearing that fills her heart with fuzzy warmth. At one time, she wouldn't have imagined associating with someone so unconcerned about their grades. She might try to inspire him to do better, but she's not appalled anymore. He listens to Celine Deon, begs her to watch rom-coms with him, and dances every kind of dance under the sun. There's this inherent, undeniable sappiness to him—she has always hated sappiness, but she somehow doesn't mind knowing that she's soaking up Zay's sappiness like a sponge. She'll take it especially if she can have his softness and kindness and warmth. It's dumb because she's always prided herself on not crushing like the other girls do, but she'd put up every single Zay poster to exist where there any. Perhaps her soul has been boy-crazy all along and just waiting for the right moment to show itself.
And Zay's smile—she can't get it out of her head. She has never noticed smiles before. Sure, she remembers Farkle's cute little one, but it doesn't hold a candle to the way she adores Zay's. His teeth are so white she's convinced that they hold some kind of magic, and she doesn't believe in magic. All she knows is that his smile sparkles in a way she never knew smiles outside of a cartoon could sparkle before. Maybe it's dumb as it sounds, but she's sure she adores everything about him.
She hears the sound of the doorbell echo through the apartment. She's the only one home and has got to get the door. She hops up and half runs to the door. She glances through the peephole as her parents have always taught her to do. It's Zay.