Chapter 3: We Are Such Stuff Dreams Are Made of
I woke up before my alarm. First day of class. I glanced at my watch. 2 minutes before my alarm would go off. Was it worth it? I laid in bed until my alarm went off and started getting ready. Clean clothes, brushed hair, brushed teeth, washed face. I looked at myself in the mirror. Mother would be proud.
Well, except for the poptart I was having for breakfast.
First class of the day was math. Specifically, Pre-Calculus with Algebra and Trigonometry. Class didn't start for another 20 minutes, so I was one of the first there. I sat down in a front seat near the middle and took out the blue notebook labeled MATH.
The boy seated next to me clicked his tongue in what I assumed to be a disapproving manner.
"Blue?" he asked, and it took me a second to realize he was talking to me.
"Huh?" I asked. He pointed at my notebook, explaining his observation. "Uh, yeah. In my mind, math's blue, I guess."
"Math is red." He told me, and held up his red notebook labeled Pre-Cal w/ Alg & Trig.
"Well, I say math is blue." I told him, in a less nervous tone.
"Nope. Without a doubt. It's red. Always been, always will be."
"You know," I began. "This may be the first time I've been in argument about colors with someone I don't even know." He offered me a smile, taking this as an opportunity to introduce himself.
"Alexander Nguyen," he proclaimed, as if his name were a great title. His black hair had a sort of bowl cut look to it, but somehow, he made it look good.
"Henry Mills," I said, offering my hand to shake his. He raised his eyebrow at this, but took it nonetheless.
"Well, Henry Mills, what's your opinion on math, apart from colors?"
"It's not my favorite," I admitted. "I prefer classes like English, to be honest."
"Ah, a book nerd, are you? Let's see, you're probably straight, right?"
"Umm… yeah" I said, hoping my face wasn't turning red.
"Damn. Okay, anyway, tell you what. You seem like a nice guy, so I'll help you if you need math help, and you can help me with my English papers. Deal?"
"Deal," I smiled. It felt nice to have a friend.
…
Later that day, I was getting lunch in one of the cafeterias on campus. College food is much better than normal school food. So many choices. I grabbed some pizza. Where to sit? Finally, I saw Alexander sitting with a curly haired boy. I walked over to their table and sat down. Alexander offered me a friendly smile.
"Nikola, this is Henry, the boy that thinks math is blue."
Nikola, the curly haired boy, groaned and pretended to bang his head on the table.
"Alex, the colors don't mean anything. Give it a rest."
"Never!" Alexander decreed. Nikola rolled his eyes.
"See what I have to put up with?" Nikola mock-complained to me.
"Hey, I've sat through your softball games. Those are ridiculously boring."
"No, they're not! You just hate sports." They both turned to me. "Henry, what do you think of sports?" I couldn't help but feel that this question was more of a treating me like a tiebreaker in an argument than an attempt to include me in the conversation. Evidently these two had been friends for a long time and I couldn't compete with that.
"They're okay I guess. I don't really care much for them." I replied.
"Ha! See?" Alexander took my response as an affirmation for his side. "Sports are lame. And he's even a straight boy who thinks so."
"Umm…" I wasn't really sure what to say to that. "Why do you keep calling me…" Nikola laughed.
"Henry, something you should know: if you hang out with Alex, he will point out your heterosexuality repeatedly." Alexander grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "To everyone. To your sister. To your roommates. To your mom. Everyone must know." He seemed to be speaking from personal experience. "And on that note, I must go. Good luck with that one, Henry."
"Hey, don't leave, buddy," Alexander whined. "Next time I'll be sure to tell your mom you're gay."
"No, seriously. I have a class." He left.
"Boring weather stuff probably," Alexander mumbled as he walked away.
We ate silently for a few minutes. Evidently, we didn't have much to talk about, apart from the color of math, and I didn't want to get into that argument again.
I was glad when I heard another familiar voice.
"Henry!" Rose exclaimed as she made her way towards me, backpack in tow. "There you are." She dropped her backpack down in an empty seat at our table and left to grab food. I watched her go.
"Awe, come on." Alexander said in an annoyed tone.
"What?" I asked, turning back to him.
"Look, man. You're into her, right?"
"Huh?" I asked, feeling my face turning red.
"Hey, it's not your fault," he continued with a laugh. "Can't help who you fall for, just who you pursue. But as someone who's constantly falling for straight boys, I'd advise against pursuing her."
"Wait, what? Why?"
"She just seems pretty gay, that's all. Nothing wrong with that, I just think you should think about that before you get in too deep and get your heart broken."
"Wait, what do you mean? How can you even-" but I shut up because Rose was coming back to the table with a grilled cheese sandwich and an apple on her plate. I hoped my face wasn't noticeably red, but Rose noticed and smirked.
"Awe, Henry," Rose began. Then, turning to Alexander, "who's your little friend that's got you blushing?"
"Alexander Nguyen," he said, giving a slight bow, "at your service."
"Rose Aster," she mimicked his gesture with a flourish of her own. "I thought making Henry blush was my job, but I must say, I'm impressed by your work." He gave Rose a wink and I crossed my arms.
"I don't like this," I proclaimed.