TWO
By the time she wakes up in the morning, Alex has nearly forgotten all about her conversation with the mystery TA, bustling out of the house like always. Despite having to half walk/half run her way there, she manages to breeze past Nona on the way up the stairs, waving just like she always does. Without Clarissa around, she's actually a sweet girl. And, of course, Ren's huge embarrassing crush.
Alex runs herself through her schedule; elective she doesn't care about, math, earth science, French 3, lunch, another elective she doesn't care about, US history 2, and finally English.
The same boy from before is sitting near the back going over papers while Mrs. Long talks, just as cheerful as ever. At least Alex tries to look like she's paying attention before the lecturing portion of the period is over. She scribbles something onto a corner of paper in her notebook, and folds it up, glancing around to make sure no one is watching before tossing it at him.
Ow. Direct hit to the head. She winces, waiting until he looks up to cup a hand to her cheek and mouth 'Sorry!' at him.
.
There is maybe some small part of Jonas that takes utter delight in glaring down any kid who dares to sit in the one (1) beat-up couch in the corner of his mom's classroom. That is his. He helped move it in before classes started. He's the one who uses it as his personal workspace. Luckily, he usually arrives either once the class is already in session and they've taken their self-assigned seats (his mom, hippie that she is, doesn't do a seating chart, but humans are creatures of habit after all), or he's there before the class comes in and no one bothers moving the papers off the other half of the couch while he's working on them. That back corner of the classroom is basically his to use as office-slash-study-hall (because there's only so much he can do for his mom before he runs out of things to do and resorts to his actual homework). It's a place where no one has the guts to bother him while his mom is teaching.
Except - apparently - Miss BC.
His reaction to the paper football to the head is relatively low-key, which is good 'cause he's not exactly unlikely to curse if something randomly hits him, but the hand raised to his forehead is missed by his mother, who has her back to him as she fills out a venn diagram on the whiteboard. Everyone else seems to be taking vigilant notes.
Except - apparently - Miss BC.
Jonas shoots her a pointed look, rolls his eyes at her apology. When his mom turns back around he's looked away from the girl with the blue hair and is watching his mom carefully to try to keep from drawing her interest as he digs the folded note from where it fell between couch cushions and tries to unfold it as quietly as possible, smoothing it flat.
Is your name JONAS
Y / N
He raises an eyebrow. Okay, so. Should he feel less weird about his stalkerish impulse to ask about her if she's asking around about him? Nope, probably not, still weird. It's just now they're both weird, not just him. Jonas really really doesn't want to, really wants to cluck his tongue and shake his head at the juvenile method of interrogation, but even as he does so he feels his lips lifting at the corners.
None of that.
He clears his throat lightly, tucks the note under some true or false quiz, flattens his face back into scholarly disinterest, and returns to grading. Tries to, anyway.
.
Well, okay, that didn't work. It kind of worked though. He did read it, she could tell that much, but clearly he hasn't responded because there isn't another piece of paper stuck in her ponytail now. Then again, maybe it's because the teacher is paying attention? Or he's just ignoring her, like she thought he was. Time for plan number two, then. Alex tears another little bit of paper, writes out another note, and takes her shot.
Thankfully it lands on the armrest near him, rather than on top of him. Alex grins at the top-notch aim, managing to stifle laughter as she goes back to her own school work. It's something about Shakespeare, annotation and revision, translation? Adaptation? She isn't really sure. At all. But she's getting it done, so no one can fault her for that. And if anyone notices the things, she can just… say she was aiming for the trashcan. She's lazy enough to pass with an excuse like that. Hopefully. Probably.
It's rude to ignore someone when they want to talk.
Then again you met me yesterday, so there's that to, but still.
Is your name JONAS or what?
Y / N
PS: My name is ALEXANDRA
.
The quizzes are done,and they're set aside in favor of his own class work.
Jonas is ashamed to admit just how many drafts he makes of a return note. All on graph paper, of course, under the guise of working on physics homework, but still. He puts maybe too much thought into it.
He can't just come out and ask hey why did I dream about you last night, that feels every possible level of creepy. He's tempted to tease her about passing notes when she should be doing classwork. He's extra tempted to throw the words of her supposed best friend - wow, what an original pickup line there - back in her face. Instead, he taps his pen, writes a few words, crosses them out, glances at his physics textbook to keep up the charade.
Time is ticking. Closer and closer to the bell.
For some reason, Jonas feels… kinda nervous. Like she's gonna corner him if he's not careful, and he's gonna slip up and mention the weird visions, and the way they remind him of his I-can't-believe-it's-not-amnesia from the spring. And that's… well, that's already all kinds of weird. That had been awkward as fuck, having to explain that he didn't remember almost a full school year. That he could barely remember anything after they decided on a third round of treatment. It had come back eventually, but at first… Well, it was kinda scary to be honest. Not remembering. And he'd had weird dreams back then, too.
Jonas's pen stills.
Had she been in those?
Now that he's thinking about it…
Back and forth he doodles lines and spirals as he tries to remember, but all of that is a blur of confusion and shame and anger. First the suspension junior year and then, when he was just about to graduate, a year or so just disappearing from his memory. Took weeks to come back. There was a CAT scan and everything. Scared his parents half to death, thinking he maybe had some kind of tumor messing with his brain. But no, there was nothing that unusual, no cross-wired nerves or anything, just… missing memories. And in the end, they came back. They felt a little… off. But they came back.
It's a good thing he's faking college classwork 'cause if he was looking at his TA work with such a furrowed brow people would probably think (or maybe realize is a better word) that he's not fit to assist.
His pen hovers as he looks over doodles of spirals and triangles and arches of hash marks, like an odometer. Like a radio.
Alex. The girl with the scuffed boots and the blue hair and the red jacket. The girl who is far too familiar.
Part of him feels a little guilty for it, but his finger flips through the corners of tests until he finds one with her handwriting. Not creepy at all, Jonas, least creepy thing you've ever done. She said Alexandra in her note, but it's Alex on paper. Alex Strickland. Well, that's something at least.
He glances at the note again.
He takes leave of the class early, stuffing his classwork into his backpack, gathering up the papers he's marked for his mom and carrying them to the front. A little square of folded graph paper slips onto Alex's desk as he passes.
You're not particularly subtle ALEXANDRA & you're gonna get us both in trouble if you keep giggling when you're trying to be sneaky
PS: it's also rude to accuse someone of running drugs and/or a fight club, btw
He's got a name to look into, at least. Even if he feels like a stalker for it. And maybe once he's tried to iron out how he knows her he can risk talking to her again.
.
Holy shit that actually worked. Even if he didn't say his name, she still got a response, which— y'know, better than nothing. Alex has both the contents of the note and her own classwork on her mind by the time the bell rings, and she practically sprints out to go and find Ren, because she can't really believe that actually worked. At all. Her friend nearly gets bowled over walking with Nona on the staircase, as she slides her way in between the two of them, holding out the note with an almost triumphant look on her face.
"Look who got a response from Mystery TA!"
Nona snorts slightly, giggling under her breath.
Alex balks. "What? I didn't expect this to work! Let me live a little, woman."
"Lemme see that-" Ren snatches the thing from her, reads it over once, twice, three times, and then grins. "I cannot believe."
She jumps in, "I know-!"
"I cannot believe you actually got a response!"
"I know!" Why is she so giddy? She shouldn't be this giddy about getting a note from someone else. Okay. Calm down Alex, take a chill pill and a breather, whatever else you need to do. The three of them walk out of the building side by side, as she scans for the TA, teal blue whipping back and forth against her neck as she at least tries to find him. Of course, no luck. He'd left early. Which means she's just going to walk home, and nothing is going to happen. For now.
.
Jonas's morals have been stuffed straight into the bin, 'cause he's about to google a girl he's barely met so he can cyberstalk her for some memory he feels like he's missing. Not his proudest moment, really.
Alex Strickland.
There's nothing coming up right away, but he tags on Camena and—
Oh.
Michael Joseph Strickland, 18, pictured with sister Alexandra, 16; April 2015.
The picture goes along with an obituary, or more like a short piece in the local paper about what a promising talent the guy was. Something about engineering scholarships and football teams, a list of clubs and awards… pretty much a local hero, from the look of things, with more charitable causes than Jonas would expect from a teenager, but apparently that was just who he was. Golden boy.
A tragic accident. That's what the article calls it. A blow to the community. There was a police investigation, maybe? It's weird, it's like… there's too much of an emphasis that Alex was there. The article feels a little… pointed.
She used to be a brunette. Huh. That's not how he remembers her, though.
Jonas rubs a hand over his eyes, taking a deep breath. He is remembering her, though. Or something like it. He knows for sure he's never seen her sad but… that's how he's remembering her. There's an image in his head. A sad smile, and a breeze off the ocean. He's got no clue where it comes from. It makes some weird sense, though, with the drowning thing. Should he be more shocked than he is? Should he be more suspicious than he is?
Checking the extra quaint neighborhood directory reveals that, yep, the Stricklands live in the neighborhood. A couple streets back from his house. Though the listing is for "G" and "A." No "M." No… anybody else.
He draws the line at physically searching out her house. Way too much. Besides, he must drive by it regularly 'cause he thinks he can picture it pretty clearly in his mind's eye.
That night, he dreams of a beach and a fire and the sounds of a radio tuning. It's not a good dream.
Notes: Let me know what you think! The notes are a fun thing (there's even more of it next chapter, so... hope you don't mind it xD) so I hope it reads alright.