Zay, Zay, Zay. The dark haired boy was all that Smackle was thinking about about whenever she was at school. Last year, they had been in the same friend group, but it had been completely different. Looking back now, Smackle thought it had to do with the fact that she had always been with Farkle. For all of the negative consequences that their breakup had had, she couldn't deny that she liked the fact that it had cemented her place in the group. No longer did she depend on Farkle to be her go-between. Instead, she was friends with everyone.
While she had grown close to everyone, she had found herself spending the most time with Zay. Ever since the school year had started, he had begun catching up to her during passing periods. He was always smiling, and he always had something to tell her. Sometimes it was a joke that he found particularly funny. She usually groaned instead of laughing and tried her best to think of a comeback. (She usually couldn't.) Perhaps it was because the jokes struck her as thought provoking instead of funny. Either way, she didn't laugh. Other times, he shared a bit of social commentary about their friend group or society at large. Those bits were always interesting because they always turned her thinking on its head. She rejected them immediately with a "really, Isaiah?". A few moments later, she realized that they were actually spot on.
Whatever he said, she usually walked into class slightly flustered with something new to think about. Knowing the effect that his comments had on her, she walked down the halls of Abigail Adams expecting him to join her at any moment. She had to be prepared to be challenged a little without losing her cool.
At first, she had taken her obsession with him lightly. She was one to notice and appreciate every boy and often got stuck on whoever was nearest for awhile. More recently, though, she had begun wondering if there was more to this. She looked forward to being with Zay not because he was uber smart or easy on the eyes. No, she found herself relishing the time she spent with him because he was different. He made her think outside the box and challenged her perceptions of the world and herself. Furthermore, the conversations they had were not only theoretical but also deep and heartfelt. When he heard about her heritage as a second generation Filipino-American, he had asked her about the traditions that were part of her homelife and told her about his favorites from his own family. She didn't talk much about her heritage in general, but it touched her that he understood how being Filipino was part of who she was. Since that conversation, she had felt that despite their differences he understood her.
When he had been home with the flu last week, school just hadn't been the same. Although she liked how relaxed she felt knowing he wouldn't come and burst her bubble, she missed him. Sure, the academic stimulation of her classes was still fun, but it all felt flat without the unpredictability of Zay. She missed his "good day, Miss Izzy" and found herself wondering what else he would have said had he the chance.
Since Monday, she had been overwhelmed by the thought that she simply had to tell him how much she enjoyed having him around. It wasn't fair that he didn't know how much joy he brought to her life. He was such an amazing person, and he deserved to know it.
The rhythm of his footsteps told of her he was approaching. She felt her face flush as if he could somehow tell what she had been thinking about. She turned around to see him walking quickly to catch up to her. "And how are we today, Miss Izzy?" he asked with a smile.
"Fantastic," she breathed. She dared not look at him or she would lose any sense of cool she had. "now that you're back. That was a very long week without you."
He grinned. "Aww, darlin', you're sweeter than a bucket of sweet tea."
"You're absolutely amazing yourself, Zay. You glow like a radioactive element making me want to find out why." She took a glance at him to notice a little smile spreading across his face. "My life was so much worse before you were in it."
Zay's face was suddenly serious again. "I'm guessing that's your way of saying you like me." His tone was matter-of-fact leaving Smackle still guessing how he felt. Lately, she had begun thinking that perhaps he liked her back, but now she suddenly wasn't sure. She hadn't planned on confessing that she had a crush on him, but now she couldn't take the words back.
Fear filled her heart. Everything had been perfect, and she had ruined it all. Well, that was over now. She pulled on his arm to make him turn and look at her again. "Yes, I like you, Zay. Do you really expect that I could do differently when you're so spectacular?"
"I like you too, Miss Izzy," Zay said with his characteristic laugh. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever notice my flirting."
She turned to look at the floor. His words made her feel both wonderful and uncomfortable. He liked her, but where would they go from here?
His voice interrupted her thoughts. "So do you really want to know why I glow? I know I want to know everything that goes on in that genius brain of yours."
She laughed. "Are you sure you really want to know everything? There's some of it even I want to forget."
"Yes, everything," Zay laughed. "I'm a man of my word. Seriously, though, what would you say to getting to know each other better? I'm dying to become an Isadora Smackle connoisseur."
There was no way Smackle would turn down an offer like that. Besides, wasn't this just an extension of what they had been doing already? She couldn't help but look at him now, and the joy in his face gave her confidence. "I'd like that very much. I've been dying to become the cutting edge Zay researcher myself."
"My dear little researcher," Zay took her arm. "I think you've got yourself a nickname already."
Author's Note: Zayadora shippers, I hope you enjoyed this. I'm not sure what I think of it. I'm writing more dialogue these days, but I'm still not sure I like it.