"And this one is a...?" I asked whacking the metre stick on the projector screen. About a dozen hands flew into the air, thankfully, otherwise I'd be forced into giving them the answer due to the time crunch.
Carefully swinging the stick around, I jabbed it in the direction of a boy in the back of the classroom. "Michael," I projected back to him.
Flipping his bleached bangs out of his face, he answered in a hushed tone, "Is that a Cinder Cone volcano?"
"Yes it is!" I watched as the hands slowly sank back down, before smiling and asking, "How does it form?" Every single hand shot back up much to my surprise. I had been teaching Grade Eight science for two years and usually at that point students didn't care enough to answer my questions. The class of 2013 was impressive compared to previous ones.
"Melody," I called, pointing at her. Not phased at all, she quickly explained, "They form after layers of lava and ash build up."
"Good," I exclaimed, slamming the metre stick down into my palm. "Now, do we have to go over the rest or do you guys want to get start on the work?" The synchronized mutters of, "Work" was good enough for me as I had tests still to grade.
"Pages twelve and fifteen in the packet, and it's not homework but I do expect you to be working," I stated, hopping down off the front row of desks. It was actually rather surprising that I was able to get away with teaching on the top of the desks. That and wearing a lab coat to school everyday instead of "dressing professionally." Though I was probably the "problematic" teacher, it didn't matter too much to me. Mainly because it was fun, but also because the kids enjoyed it.
It became a habit for me to get a school lunch with the students everyday, then to complain about it in the hour after that. At first I was dubbed as the "odd new one" but as each grade became more and more comfortable with my shenanigans-such as having days where instead of learning we just sat and talked about whatever-I suddenly became the "cool teacher."
Not that I actually eavesdropped on the students or anything... That's besides the point.
Sitting down for about five minutes, I finished up on the last couple tests that were left and started strolling around the room looking for anyone who may need help on the assignment. Of course, being forever off-task, it didn't take long for the cover of a book to catch my attention.
The fact that Liliana was already reading yet another Young Adult Fiction novel that week was not surprising. Reading almost constantly unless a teacher was talking or there was work to be done, she worked quickly through assignments to get back to whatever new page-turner was waiting for her. I often asked her about her books and series, when I saw the opportunity.
"What do we have today?" I asked leaning to the side a bit, trying to see the cover better, my glasses slipping down my nose slightly and blurring my vision. From what I could make out, it was grey and there were two human figures. A couple kids gave me a quick glance before focusing their concentration back onto the pages.
"It's 'The Shadowed Ones,'" she began rather quietly, used to me asking her about books. "It's about this boy who has a...sad social life so he spends a lot of his time out in the woods and one day he meets another boy out there who has escaped from a government laboratory and has weird superpowers. It's the first in the trilogy. The third one is coming out this summer. Most of the grade has read the series already."
"Sounds good," I commented with a smile. "I'll have to track down a copy. What's it called again?"
"'The Shadowed Ones,'" she repeated, waiting a second before adding, "by Arthur Kirkland."
Blinking a couple times as her last three words sunk in, I echoed, "Arthur Kirkland?"
"Yeah," she mumbled sounding a bit confused. "He lived around here or something."
"Can I see that really quick?" Now a majority of the class was giving me a sideways glance, not that I minded or cared too much. Taking the book from her gently as she handed it over, I flipped to the absolute back to the "About the Author" page. A chortle got past me as, I stared down at his neutral, photographed expression and those caterpillar eyebrows. Sitting the hardcover book back down in front of her, I met the eyes of the entire class.
"I'm sorry," I started, leaning back against the counter a bit. "Arthur was just my best friend in high school." There was a sudden uproar of disbelief from almost every single student. I heard several "Prove its" and "Then name off facts about hims."
Taking it as a challenge, I hushed them, sitting back on the counter and asking, "Raising your hands, what do you guys want to know?"
Every single shot into the air at once to the point where it was almost overwhelming. "Wow, okay. Uh... Maddison." The hands slowly descended as she spoke up with, "Name off his brothers!"
Sighing a bit, I looked up towards the ceiling. "Let's see... I used to babysit Peter every once in awhile, and he was in fifth grade when we graduated. I didn't know Lewis, because he left as soon as he turned eighteen and that was before I was friends with Arthur. Jack hated me, I can tell you that. And Oliver never said more than two words to me at a time...or anyone for that matter."
Eying me suspiciously, she seemed satisfied with my answer and leaned back into her plastic chair with her arms crossed. "Next," I announced causing the hands to shoot into the air once again. "Brett."
"What was his favourite colour?"
"Green, and that is so cliché. Seriously, Brett? Next." Remus asked about how I met right after that, without being called on might I add.
Staring at him for a second, I questioned, "You mean the first time I actually met him 'met him' or how I became friends with him 'met him.'"
"Both," the class verified in unison. Jeez, I've never seen them so hyped up about anything in my class.
Chuckling a bit, I decided to be mostly honest with them since what damage could it really do. "Well I first met him when I was eleven, honestly, I hated him at first. We didn't get along at all." A laugh broke out from a couple of them, probably due to the irony of it.
"Then in Freshmen year I beat up a couple guys that were beating him up and... Actually let me backtrack and tell you guys not to beat people up because then you end up suspended. I am not a great role model, learn from my mistakes. Also don't go around saying I used to beat people up in high school. It only happened thrice." For some reason, the entire monologue was incredibly entertaining to them, so I had to wait for their giggling to die out before continuing.
"Anyway, I actually started talking to him and high school and we both realized that the other wasn't as...dislikable as we were when we were twelve. And last one, Grace."
"Does this mean we get to write fan letters to him?"
Scrunching up my face a bit, I honestly replied, "Well, considering I haven't spoken to him since before I started college, it'll probably be a 'no,' unless I get in contact with him sometime before the end of the year. Plus I'm a science teacher."
"Mark it off as one of our writing assignments," suggested Gavin as though he were just waiting for it.
"Also he's signing books this weekend in the Barnes & Noble in Grand Rapids," Juanita piped up from the other side of the room.
Chuckling a bit, I told them, "You guys are the best problem solvers when it applies to anything not school related."
"We just really like getting out of work, Mr. Jones," Remus stated, tilting his chair back onto the back to legs. Before I could respond to him or tell him not to damage my chairs, the electronic bell chimed through the intercom.
"Remember, no homework," I reminded, sliding off the counter preparing for the next class and bracing myself for a "Slacking and Yacking Day."
Brushing the tips over the back of the cover, I stood in the line that stretch practically from one side of the store to the other. How did I not know that he wrote books before now? Clearly everyone else did. Some old best friend I am.
Deciding there was nothing better for me to be doing I flipped the the first page and started reading
Loneliness was never an emotion I had embraced gracefully. I had grown surrounded by a crowd of friends and busy sidewalks. My life was filled entirely with nameless faces and always a soul around to chat with, whether it be Murry who worked at the Café across the street or Mrs. Millboro next door.
Replacing skyscrapers and taxis with trees and wildlife was not an easy transition for me to say the least. After thirteen years of constant noise and faces in a sleepless city, the nearly dead quiet of the forest was just about enough to drive me utterly insane.
But I guess that's just the kind of luck you're blessed with when you're superstitious and your parents name you Devlin, paired with the already fantastic surname of Mallory.
The line moved forward a couple steps. Following them obediently, I didn't look up again until I had finished the page. At that point, there were only about two people left in front of me. Gently closing the book, I gazed at the back of the head of the girl in front of me. If she was in my district, I'd probably have her as a student. Her hair was tied up in pigtails and I could see the edges of her glasses peeking around the side of her face as she giddily bounced on the balls of her feet.
Eventually he handed a couple books to a woman probably in her early twenties. She thanked him before scurrying off through the store. The girl on front of me quickly slid her book in front of Arthur while quickly stuttering, "I-I'm Telula. I-I just w-want to thank you s-so much for coming out here and doing this a-and...you're my favourite author I love your books. Thank you so much."
"Of course, dear. It's my pleasure to do anything for my readers." The words slipped so easily from his smile, making Telula squeal a bit. Damn, why has it been so long? I wondered staring at him with a smirk.
"There you are," he lilted with an unwavering grin. She thanked him once again in an utterance as his gaze fell back down to the table. Setting my newly bought copy down in front of him, I comically said, "Fancy meeting you here."His hands froze over the inside cover of the novel, eyes following the path upwards towards my face.
"Alfred?" he exclaimed in dismay.
"S'up?" I asked giving him a subtle wink. Several faces peered at us from in line, struggling to figure out what was going on.
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he whispered to me, malcontent.
"I'm here to get a book signed," I fired back, smirking at him a bit.
"Oh," he muttered, a blush tinting his cheeks, "right." Gaze dropping back down to his pen, he scrawled several sentences into the cover with a steady hand. Crossing my arms, I smirked at him a bit, just watching him write.
Punctuating his last word, he closed the cover and handed it back.
"Thanks, Eyebrows." I grinned, taking the book back from him. "I'll see you around," I stated starting to go.
"Goodbye, Alfred," he said after me, annoyance dripping through his words.
It hadn't been ideal, but it was still nice to see him again, though I kind of wanted to actually talk to him again. Assuming I wouldn't get another chance for a while, I eventually found the store's reading section and flopped into a chair, checking what was written on the inside:
I didn't know you could read! Nice to see you actually picked up something sophisticated.
-Arthur Kirkland
Suppressing a laugh the best I could, I flipped back to the second page and picked up where I had left off.
Two hours and about half a book later, I glanced up at Arthur for the first time since sitting down only to realize that his line had been depleted and he was now just scrawling absentmindedly in a notebook. As much as I just wanted to continue reading, I forced myself to mark my page and walk back over to him.
"So what have you been up to?"
Flinching a lot with a hand flying up to his chest, he gasped, "When did you get so quiet?"
"Probably some time in college when I had to sneak back into the dorm without waking my roommate," I responded coolly, leaning on his plastic fold out table.
Rolling his eyes at me, he muttered "It was rhetorical," before deciding to answer my question. "If you're really wondering what I've been up to, then I've been in college, graduating with an English Major and getting an internship with the Grand Rapids Press that eventually turned into a job as a journalist," he listed without looking me in the eye, putting away the notebook he had been writing in.
"Hey, that's cool man. I probably would have tracked you down sooner if I got the Press," I laughed, kneeling a bit so I wasn't towering over him as he sat.
"There's another chair back here if you want to sit," he offered, reaching down behind the table for probably a fold-up chair.
"Am I allowed to?"
"What difference does it make? I haven't had any company for near an hour now, so I don't see why not," he responded, unfolding the chair next to him. Grinning at him a bit, I half flopped down into it, throwing an arm over the back of it.
"Charming," Arthur muttered, staring off at the book ahead of him as though there were a camera among them. Laughing a bit, I pulled his attention back over to me away from the nonexistent recording device.
"So what have you been doing with your life, Alfred?" asked Arthur, interested in my life all of the sudden.
"Well, I ended up going to college," I started, figuring out how to word the rest of the story.
"Shocker," Arthur stated in almost complete monotone.
Rolling my eyes at him a bit, I continued with, "And now I'm a science teacher with students who really enjoy your books."
"Really?"
"Really! I wasted about ten minutes out of three of my classes convincing them all that I actually knew you... and that we couldn't take time out of class to write fan letters to you."
Laughing a bit and shaking his head, Arthur got out, "I would be completely okay with that."
"You really want me to drop off one hundred and twenty something letters to you?" I asked with a grin. He still agreed that he would be willing to read all of them, much to my mocking surprise.
"How's your mother been?" he inquired out of practically nowhere.
"She's getting along without Matt and me. At least, I think she's doing okay without us, probably lonely at worse."
Chortling a bit, Arthur commented, "You're such a caring son."
"Shut up," I muttered, shoving him a bit.
"Do you at least know how Matthew is doing?"
"Well, I better, considering he's living with me." The statement sent a wave of surprise over Arthur's expression before I elaborated. "He's going to college right now earning his Master's to become a Evolutionary Biologist."
"So you both became scientists?"
Laughing a bit, I agreed with him, having already made the connection myself. Not wanting to kill the conversation, I followed it up with, "So, how is your family?"
Groaning a bit and folding his arms while glancing up at the high ceiling, he began, "Peter is a Senior now, been begging Mum and Father for a car for over a year. Jack is thinking about marrying his girlfriend, whom he got pregnant. After that he's thinking about moving back to England or Ireland," he stated with disdain. Sighing a bit, he continued a second or two later.
"Lewis did move back about five years ago, and got married last spring and I and most of our brothers almost weren't invited until Mum threw a fit," he muttered with the roll of his eyes. "He's working in some factory right now though he keeps talking about starting his own business someday. Oliver on the other hand, moved out to California and is working for Google."
"I didn't know he was into that kind of stuff."
"Neither did we!" Arthur practically exclaimed with his hands near his face. What few customers were still there at seven at night, shot us a few glances as though they were becoming ever more annoyed with our presence.
"Interesting family you got there. How are your parents dealing with all of this?"
With a dry chuckle, he retorted, "How do you think they are?" That got a chortle out of me for a couple seconds, before I decided to try a different question.
"Where are you living these days?"
Without thinking ahead of time, he simply responded, "I have a flat downtown. Rent is a pain in the arse though. What about you and Matt?"
"We're in one of the newer apartments they've built in town. Rent isn't so bad considering we're both paying it. Matt's working at The Kitchen so I've been paying a larger portion of it."
"Oh, you moved back?" he questioned sounding a bit surprised by the statement.
"Yeah, it was just an easier move, plus there was a job opening in the middle school," I answered with a shrug. "Do you remember Ms. Wilma?" Narrowing his eyes and biting his lower lip, he shook his head a bit before his lids flew open, widening the appearance of his eyes.
"Wasn't she the grey hair that told you to become a teacher?"
"Indeed she was," I responded with enthusiasm, before continuing with where the question was leading. "Well apparently after we graduated she got moved down to the middle school and about three years ago she decided to retire, so then two years ago I filled her job."
"Funny how that worked out," Arthur commented, a smiling playing on his lips. "But who else stayed in town? I haven't been to any of the reunions."
"As most of us noticed," I acknowledged, remembering the Five Year from a couple years back. "I know that Antonio is in Spain currently doing who knows what. I think Francis is still travelling the world, studying art from various cultures or something prestigious like that. Gilbert came back from Germany and got an engineering job over in Detroit I believe." Arthur's disinterested stare, caught my attention before I started listing off our friend group.
"Kiku is an animator now, except I don't know where he ended up. I haven't seen Matthias in a while, though I do know he's dating a guy named Lukas Bondevik."
"He's gay?" balked Arthur with owlish eyes. "And is that the Lukas?"
"Maybe," I guessed, not really sure myself, having just found him the other day on FaceBook. Eyebrows cocked, Arthur made a surprised noise before I continued.
"But anyway, Eduard programs computers now, and actually lives in the apartment building next to us. Uh... Jett works at John Ball Zoo now, which I can say wasn't much of a surprise."
"No one would be baffled by that."
"Pretty much," I continued, "do you remember Lovino Vargas?"
"I remember Feliciano who clung to Ludwig."
"Well Lovino was in our grade and now he and Feliciano run this Italian restaurant downtown near the old bridge."
"That's not much of a surprise either," he muttered, his expression barely changing.
"Neither was hearing that Ludwig became a Mechanical Engineer."
"Do all siblings do that when there's only two of them? Go into the same career paths?"
Laughing a bit at the coincidence, I told him I wasn't sure though I assumed no. Suddenly remembering another one of our former classmates.
"Do you remember Ivan?"
"The really tall Russian, who you were passive aggressive towards?"
"Yes, hi-I was not 'passive aggressive!'"
"You were, Alfred," he objected, studying me with scrutiny.
"I was not, but whatever," I countered as I realized how off track I had gotten. It was like I could never have a conversation with him without forgetting what I was saying. "Anyway, now Ivan runs a flower shop on the edge of town."
"A flower shop?" Arthur echoed, suppressing a laugh.
"He runs a flower shop now," I reverberated with a grin. A chuckle passed his lips as he smiled down at the floor, his chardonnay bangs falling past the almost visible veins on the side of his forehead. Situated still on the fold out chair, I became fixated on the pull of the corners of his mouth, the crinkling of the skin near his eyes and those crooked but white teeth, how his eyes were like windows into some far off part of the galaxy that had yet to be explored.
His mouth started moving, producing sounds that were supposed to be words, violently jerking me out of my daze. "Sorry, I just zoned out. What did you say?"
"I said, 'he would make an interesting character in a story,'" he repeated, his bushy brows beetling a bit. Chortling slightly I agreed, hoping that I wasn't blushing, that would be the last thing I needed.
Neither of us managed to get another word out before an alarm went off on his phone signalling the end of his time slot. "Well, I guess that means I'm done here for today," Arthur stated, turning it off and collecting a bag from under the table.
"I guess it does," I agreed, standing up. "Do they need us to put the table away or anything?"
"No, just leave it," he declined, getting up as well, bag in hand. "There'll be another author here tomorrow signing and it's easier for the workers to just leave it out." I shrugged it off, believing him.
"We should keep in touch," I blurted out, as I held the door open.
"We should," he affirmed. "Do you have a mobile?"
Unsure of what he was trying to ask for a moment, I stupidly droned, "Uh..." Scoffing a bit, he started digging through his pockets until he found a spare scrap of paper. Pulling out a pen as well, he quickly scrawled something down on it and handed it to me.
"Call me or something when you get the chance."
I got a chance the next day, somewhere around noon. That phone call turned into a second the day after that, then a third and a fifth until it became a daily thing. Our phone calls slowly converged into text messages riddled with "You won't believe what happened today," and "Help, I'm stuck" and the ever so common "ARTHUR I PROCRASTINATED TOO MUCH AND NOW HAVE TOO MANY PAPERS TO GRADE." The final one usually resulted to him driving over and assisting me with several very large piles of papers I had procrastinated on grading for way too long. Matt sometimes joined us after work or class, but usually he just walked in and passed out on his bed, not that I could blame him.
Every once in awhile we'd end up at a bar after a bad day at work or grading papers, which was usually followed up by a tired, irritated Matthew coming to pick us up. Though when I did take up the responsibility of being the Designated Driver it was actually quite entertaining sometimes. As it turned out, Arthur was an angry drunk. Okay, less angry and more just...extremely argumentative.
Our rides home were usually something to the effect of:
"Why d'ya leave'da bloody 'U' outta words all'f ya Ameri'ans howmeny papers've I seen the 'u' outta flavour and labour and major," he asked and stated all in a single breath.
"There's no 'U' in major in any variation of English, Arthur," I calmly pointed out to him, focusing on the road more than the blushing, hammered Briton in my passenger seat.
"Za'sn't'da poin'!" he cried, words tumbling out of his mouth without distinction between syllables, slinking down into his seat. "Why d'ya call foo'ball 'shoccer?' What'da 'shoccer' ev'n meeaan?" Sometimes he'd be quiet for several moments, leading me to assume he had passed out until he randomly shouted, "Wha's'da pooin'f bassebaalll? I's nah ev'na proper sporuh!"
"Lot's of people enjoy baseball just because it's fun. There doesn't have to be a point to a sport you know," I commented, pulling into the parking lot of his apartment building, turning off the engine of my car.
"Shuup yer jus's confusin' as ice tea!" he interjected, falling against the closed door, tracing his finger messily over the plastic. "'s disgus'in' ya knooow I hade eh."
"I know you do," I muttered in response, getting out of the car. Jogging around to the other side before he could do anything stupid or vomit, I pulled his door open, unbuckling him as he continued his slurred rant. Helping him out only to have him practically fall on top of me, he muttered, "I shou've ya meee mah friends when we ge'up'tu'da fla' ya'll like'm."
Regaining my balance, I allowed Arthur practically hang off of me, his arm slung around my neck and his other hand gripping my shirt. "I'd love to meet them, Art," I confirmed, bringing a beam across his face.
"Za's gu, Aaaallll," he lilted, holding out the syllables of my shortened name. "Ya 'ave sush a predy, predy name ya stupid Ameri'an boy," he stated before laughing at himself or maybe something else. Just as I opened the door with his keycard, his second arm flew around my neck as he almost sent the two of toppling into the cement with an unexpected hug.
"What'cha doin'?" I asked, keeping my balance thanks to the door frame.
"Mmm huggin' ya predy Ameri'an boy," he drawled, laughing a tiny bit. The audible click of the door relocking was almost enough to make me groan. Not only did I have to try to get Arthur and I through the door with him hanging off of me, but I also had to do so while unlocking the door again.
"As much as I appreciate it, Arthur, can you stop real quick?" I asked him before explaining, "We kind of need to get into the building."
"O'ay," he muttered, arm falling from my neck as he flopped back into the support of the door. Pulling out the keycard to his apartment, I quickly swiped it through waiting for the click a few seconds later. Pushing the door open, I motioned for him to come too. In his drunken state, he stumbled forward, falling into me once again with one arm wrapping back around my neck and another wrapping around my waist.
"Yer mah bes' friend, Aaalll," he slurred in my ear, resting his head on my shoulder as I tried to lug him up the stairs. I murmured something similar back to him just before we completely toppled over onto the staircase. Hitting my head on the worn down, fake wood didn't hurt much, it was more of Arthur landing on top of me with his elbow in my gut, winding me.
"Ow," Arthur stated, sounding more dazed than hurt. Lifting himself up off of me with wobbly arms, he promptly fell face-first back into the stairs, laughing his head off. Nice to know he wasn't hurt.
Using the railing to yank myself into a standing position, I grabbed Arthur's arm and gently inquired with a chuckle, "You okay?"
Arthur allowed me to help him up as he giggled clearly, "I topped."
"Alright," I stated, with all the humour draining from my voice. Drunk people really know when to say the most inappropriate thing at the worse time.
He continued to cling to me as I hoisted him up the stairs, preventing him from falling over on several occasions. When we finally got up to his apartment, I was forced to dig through his pockets for his actual apartment key. As I did, he started giggling again, which I tried to ignore but in the end just couldn't.
"What's so funny this time?" I asked, looping a finger through the key ring as I found it.
"Eh dickles..." he murmured to me, his head resting still on my shoulders and a smile playing across his face. Accepting the answer, I scoured through the keys for a moment until I finally found the one labeled with his room number. Unlocking the door and pushing it open, I lead Arthur through the door.
"Le's wash a mooviiie!" Arthur suggested, moving towards the couch.
"How about we do that tomorrow when you're not about to pass out."
"Mm nah gonna pass ouh!" Arthur objected with drooping eyelids. I just hummed in an unbelieving agreement as I propped open the door to his bedroom. Walking him in, I basically threw Arthur onto his bed before realizing that he wasn't letting go of me and was bringing me down on top of him. Catching myself on my elbows, my eyes widened as I came to realize that my face only inches from his. It took me a while to react to what was going on, my brain got a little distracted taking in the surroundings, the potent smell of alcohol on his breath, silvery white moonlight filtering through a few bent blinds, and, more specifically, Arthur.
"'Ello!" he cheerfully said with a grin, the light from outside illuminating some of his crooked teeth.
"Hi," I breathed in response, captivated suddenly. Beams of crystal light danced through the murky ponds of his eyes. Darker greens floating over the lighter like light filtering through tree leaves. Light coloured freckles and fading acne scars became barely visible on his skin, appearing to be so pale that it was practically porcelain. That smile, those pale pink lips, and, for a moment, I was tempted just to lean down and bring mine to them.
Slowly his hand came up, brushing along my cheekbone, skimming above my ear and glasses. Those long, ghostly fingers entwining themselves in my hair. And maybe even for a second our noses came within millimeters of bumping against each other. Almost. Just before I suddenly snapped into realization, pulling away and swinging my legs over the bed.
"I have to go," I told him in a mutter, standing up and starting towards the door. The bed creaked a bit as he sat up causing me to look back at him. Neither of us said anything at first, it took me a good minute to finally tear my gaze away from him and start heading out again. I had just walked out of his bedroom when I heard him finally pipe up.
"I love you." The words came out clearly, not slurred or broken in anyway. Just three intelligible, innocent words that had been hiding in his thoughts for who knows how long. Turning around and resting a hand on the door frame, my gaze fell on his again for the third time in the last couple minutes. His eyes raking over me, trying to deduce a response all on their own.
With a sigh, I managed to mutter, "I love you too, buddy." The corners of his mouth pushed upwards, wrinkling his cheeks and showing off that breathtaking smile that could make my insides melt. God, I hated that feeling. As much as I knew I wasn't straight, I still couldn't handle the fact that maybe my feelings towards Arthur weren't 100% platonic.
As I walked out of his apartment, back down to my car, I recapped to myself every single possible feeling I had ever felt that could possibly mean I may have "liked liked" Arthur: the butterflies in my stomach sometimes when I saw him, how his smiles and laughs were enough to captivate me, how sometimes I would catch myself in the middle of class just thinking about him. I hated it. I hated it, I hated it, I hated it, I hated it. And I utterly enjoyed every single second of it and wouldn't trade those moments for the world.
I hated that too.
In college, I had experienced some all too familiar feelings similar to those. The first time they had appeared it had been towards a guy who I ended up making out with a month later. His name was Nikolai and he had been the one to inform me on what the term "bisexual" was. We had never gotten together, he was still living with his parents and knew they would never approve of anything of the sort. I did, however, end up dating two people in college: a girl named Natalya and another guy named Daniel. Both had end up dumping me without giving me so much of a reason why.
But Arthur was my friend. I had known him for about continuous five years and I couldn't like him romantically. At least that was what I wanted to believe.
Fate and the Universe always have different plans.
"All I'm saying is that it's okay to let me pay," I argued, trying to force my gaze to stay on the road.
"But I was the one who recently got promoted, in case you've already forgotten, Alfred," Arthur reiterated for about the fifth time.
"Dude, it's okay to let me pay for stuff! I'm an adult! With a job!" I insisted though I didn't mostly believe the "adult" part even at twenty-six.
"Yes you are an adult, an adult who's paying rent and is living on a teacher's salary!"
"That's true, but I'm completely okay with spending money on what I want to spend it on. Plus now you can go out and have some extra cash to spend on actual important things," I insisted, knowing that I was probably making a pretty weak argument.
Crossing his arms and huffing in irritation, Arthur mumbled, "Maybe you are important," before loudly countering once again with, "Well your salary isn't big enough to just go off and spend thirty dollars all in one sitting!"
I couldn't really argue that movie theatre prices weren't that expensive when they were pretty close to it. Besides, the only reason we were arguing was that I had decided to pay for all of it instead of breaking the bill 50/50 like we usually did. So in reality, it was all my fault that we were fighting in the first place.
Sighing as I pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex, I looked over at him and stated, "Arthur, you don't have to worry about my finances. That's my problem!" Getting out and slamming the door close, Arthur half-heartedly glared at me as I stepped out of the car as well.
As I stood up, walked around and leaned on the passenger side of the hood, he stated in an almost bored tone, "Just because you have money doesn't mean you have to spend it. That's why we've been splitting the bill every time we go out."
Smirking suddenly, I just shook my head a bit and commented, "You make us sound like we're a couple or something. We're kind of fighting like one."
With a single heart beat, his face flushed a light scarlet, contrasting with his eyes. "Shut up," he commanded in mutter, bushy brows beetling.
"Make me," I retaliated, staring at him with my arms unfolding. Our eyes locked for about half a second before his arms flew up around my neck, pulling me down as his lips came in contact with mine. After a half second of confusion, my eyes fluttered shut as my hands came to rest on his back. His lips dance across mine like fingers on piano keys, gentle and practiced, but at the same time electric and appearing almost clumsy. That time he took my breath away completely, forcing me to inhale deeply through my nose. His skin smelt like the tea he loved to drink and faintly of old book pages.
Breaking away from him for air, I felt his hands untangle themselves from my hair, trailing away from the back of my neck and shoulders. Getting the hint, I removed my hands from his back. Stepping back a bit after opening my eyes, my hand came up to scratch the back of my neck where his fingers used to be. Swallowing, he bit his lip and his eyes traveled down to our shoes.
"I didn't know you were gay," he commented, lip coming out of his mouth and his stare meeting mine.
"Bi, but I guess that doesn't really matter," I uttered, swallowing hard. Damn, why am I so nervous? Arthur only nodded, not asking any questions or making another statement on the matter.
"Does this mean we're a couple, now?" he questioned after a while, as if I would know any better than he would.
Shrugging a bit, I allowed a smirk to play across my lips as I stated, "Only if you want to be." His bottom lip returned to its place between his teeth as his gaze rested back down on the pavement. A fragile silence began to settle in between us, leaving us with so many options that could either break it completely or ruin everything and let it stay.
My heart hammered in my chest as I removed my hands from my pockets and asked, "Do you want to go out next Friday?" Arthur's stare flew up so fast, catching mine in their green gaze, that my next couple words almost got stuck in my throat. "A-as a date," I clarified in a small voice, as my heartbeat became audible inside my skull.
A chuckle cut through all the noise in my head, as a smile was pulled across his soft, pink lips. "I'll see you at five on Friday, don't be late," he told me with that stupid, cocky grin on his face as he started to move away from the car and towards the building.
"Oh," I got out as his words slowly began to register. He said "yes." I was going on a date with Arthur. "Okay!" I called to him, as it completely sunk in and I started getting in the car. "See you Friday!" I think he replied, he probably did, but by then I was already in the driver's seat with the engine on.
As I pulled back out on to the street, I couldn't help the grin from forcing itself across my face. I didn't stop the flood gate of memories from falling open, letting that smile just grow.
It was funny how he had been my date to the prom nine years back and now I was actually dating him. How we half-hid in the boys locker room, and awkwardly swayed along to Aerosmith was probably a fonder memory for me than it should have been, considering my girlfriend had been cheating on me. But I guess it was just my captivation with the way he grinned and laughed that night that suppressed the rest of it for me. The images of him smiling at me through the low-lights of the dance floor merged with those of him laughing so hard he could barely breath, snow clinging to his bangs, cheeks rosy. Oh how I became obsessed with seeing smiles Freshman year, to the point where I had even decided that was part of my answer...
Had I not been on the highway I would have stopped suddenly. How long has it been now? I wondered, thinking to a stormy spring day back in 1995. Sitting there, fourteen years later, it was almost hard to believe just how much time had passed. I swore that I should have been longer. It couldn't have only been fifteen years.
But more importantly, I probably should have started working towards that answer again.
Grandpa was still waiting.
Well, I'm trying to update regularly, and I get credit for that at least.
First I'm going to quickly explain that "Devin" and "Mallory" are supposed to be unlucky names and that's pretty much the only reason that I included the name in this.
Second, Alfred as a teacher is largely based off my Spanish teacher from last year, who actually did teach on table tops with a metre stick, minus the lab coat though...one of my science teachers actually used to do that all the time. I'm so unoriginal. But anyway, I tried to make Al one of the cool male teachers who wasn't weirdly awkward and that people actually, you know, like. So yeah, Teacher!Alfred is literally just a combination of my old Spanish and Science teachers.
Also you're welcome. It finally happened.
On that same note, I got a review from a guest and I just want to reply to it. Don't worry dear, you have not offended me in anyway, and I don't mean to be rude myself, but it looks gay because it is gay, and people are okay with it being that way. I can understand if it's personal preference if you like to pair characters up with Nyotalia, that's completely okay! So just in short, many of us don't have the characters in heteroromantic relationships just because a) we don't mind that it is gay and/or b) it's just personal preference. There's nothing wrong with your question, and I hope I answered it without embarrassing you! I apologize if I did!
Alright, have a nice day! Thanks for reading!