Welcome to sophomore year. Here is Gus and some TJ and Spinelli for you.

…

10th Grade, High School

Age: 14-15

September 2007

…

Gus tucks in his shirt and buckles his belt, looking into the full length mirror to make sure nothing is out of place. He keeps his hair cut short, rather than the floppy style the other boys seem to favor, and he wears straight-legged Wrangler khakis instead of the slouchy denim from American Eagle or Abercrombie. He buttons his plaid shirt almost all the way to the top and tucks in it crisply.

He knows that what he wears isn't necessarily deemed in style, but he feels comfortable with a clean and neat appearance. Especially on the first day of school.

He shakes his head as he thinks back to his younger years. Elementary school Gus would be astonished to see him now, excited to go to his first day of sophomore year of high school. By the time his family moved to Arkansas in the beginning of fourth grade, he had gone to twelve schools in as many states. Kindergarten wasn't so bad, but kindergarten is such a free-for-all that he imagines he could have gone to a different kindergarten every day and someone would have played with him. After kindergarten, it was all the same. At every school, lines had been drawn, friendships already formed, and he was nothing more than the new kid. His only friends had come in the form of other kids on base, but inevitably the parent would get reassigned and the kid would disappear and suddenly he was friendless once again.

Which is why he had been shocked when Third Street had been so different. He got the vibe almost immediately that this was what he called a forever school. There wasn't much movement in the student body, the kids that started kindergarten there generally finished sixth grade. He hadn't needed to hear that Morris Hingle had been the new kid for three years to know it. It was a vibe he had discovered over his many moves – that and he remembered his mother making a comment about the lack of houses for sale as they drove to their new house on base.

No, Third Street was definitely a forever school and he had been to forever schools before and those had always been the worst. But Third Street, and this school district in general, became his forever school, something he never thought he'd be able to say.

He takes one final look at himself. He grew a few inches over the summer and it shows in his lanky frame. He still isn't as tall as Mikey or Vince – and part of him doubts he ever will be – but he has now surpassed both TJ and Gretchen to be firmly in the middle. But despite attending military camp, he has yet to fill out in any meaningful way, appearing more gawky and long than tall and sturdy like his father.

He grabs his backpack and trumpet case off the floor, adjusts his glasses straight on his nose, and rushes down the stairs. His parents are still at the breakfast table, his father's nose in the newspaper and his mother's eyes occasionally glancing at the local morning news on the TV.

"Looking spiffy, son," his father says.

"Thanks," he says.

He takes the empty seat at the table, where a plate has been set for him. His mother always makes a full breakfast on the first day of school. The three continue their morning in a comfortable silence, the news on in the background and Gus' father's occasional grunts at something in the newspaper. Once Gus scarfs down his food, he picks up his plate and cleans it off before turning back to his parents.

"I've got to run. I'm meeting my friends before school."

His mother stands and gives him a hug. "Have a good first day, honey," she says. "And if you need anything-"

"He'll be fine, Madge," his father says, leaning back in his chair.

Gus nods at his father before turning back to his mother. "Dad's right, Mom. I'll be fine."

His mother gives him another tight squeeze and he heads out the door, looking over his shoulder to wave one more time on his way out. His mother still gets a little nervous for him on the first day of school, remembering all the times she sent him to school with bright-eyed optimism, only to pick up a boy with tears in his eyes.

He attaches his trumpet case to the back of his bike and hops on, ready to ride over to Mikey's. The two always ride to school together as they live a street over from each other.

When they originally moved to town, the Griswalds lived on base in military housing, just as they always did. His father was constantly moved and it didn't make any sense for his family to buy a home. The home that they live in now is the first and only home that has been theirs in Gus' life and the circumstances behind it can only be described as fate.

Five days after Gus had started at Third Street was September 11, 2001. His father had originally been tasked with restructuring a failing recruit training program, but as soon as the towers fell, his new job became directly training new recruits for war. His father stayed stateside for a year before he and his troops were sent to Afghanistan when Gus was in fifth grade. Gus figured his days in Arkansas were numbered at that point. His father was a talented career military officer, known for whipping young recruits into some of the best soldiers, and Gus had figured he'd be sent to wherever the biggest need was. But, when his father returned from Afghanistan, he stayed in Arkansas until he left for his second tour, this time to Iraq.

While his father had returned from Afghanistan with only emotional scars, his second tour left him with physical injuries. He remembers his mother coming to the school to pick him up, telling him that his father was in a hospital in Germany, where he would stay until he was stable enough to transport back to the US. His father spent months at Walter Reed and Gus had gone to Bethesda with his mother as often as they could to see him and his grandparents, who live in Alexandria, stayed by his side the rest of the time.

His father had been offered a desk job at the Pentagon, which his grandparents had pleaded with his father to accept. Gus figured that was it. He was gone. He told his friends it was only a matter of time before they packed up the house and he was enrolled in some school in Virginia. But his father took a non-combat position at his current base, doing much the same as he had been originally hired for and restructuring the base activities. His mother, who hadn't held a job since she married his father due to their constant moving, was able to become a librarian again and took a job at the University of Arkansas. And, not long after, they purchased a home in the Third Street neighborhood, officially becoming part of the community that had welcomed them with open arms.

Despite the terrible and tragic circumstances surrounding their permanency in Arkansas, it's the happiest Gus thinks the three of them have ever been. The three of them had been a fairly insular unit for much of his early childhood, staying in every night to play board games and going out as a group of three to dinner. But now, not only does Gus have friends, but his parents do as well – some of them his friends' parents and some they've met on their own.

He pulls up in front of Mikey's house and waits for his friend to step out. Now that he's been here for so long, he can't imagine life any other way.

Mikey steps out of his front door and pauses, going through his usual morning routine of making sure he has everything before he leaves the stoop. He touches his backpack, his pocket for lunch money, his other pocket for a tissue, and then touches his butt – underpants. Gus shakes his head and chuckles. Mikey told him once that he doesn't have to check for the last one any more, but it all started with his mom checking each of the four things before he got on the bus to Third Street and he's kept the same order ever since. Happy that he has everything he needs, Mikey hops off the stoop and grabs his bike from the garage, walking it down the driveway to meet up with Gus.

"Hello, my friend," he says. "Alas, such a wonderfully bright and sunny day to begin our sophomore adventure."

"Sure is!" Gus says. "Gotta be a good sign, right?"

Mikey smiles and clicks his bike helmet into place. "I believe it is."

They ride side by side through the roads of their neighborhood and then single file once they get to the busier streets. When they arrive at the school, they lock their bikes into the bike rack and walk over to the small patio by the back entrance to the school, where students are hovering in groups, not wanting to go inside and officially end their summers until absolutely necessary.

Gretchen sits at a picnic table, her nose in a book. The title, Still Alice, doesn't sound familiar and for a second Gus's heart speeds up. Did he forget to read one of the summer reading books? Sometimes Gretchen will skim the books once more before class to remind herself of some key details.

"That's not one of the required books, right?"

She looks up and shakes her head.

"Oh no," she says, stuffing a bookmark into the pages. "The author spoke at my summer conference and I finally got my hands on a copy of her book and, I'll admit, I haven't been able to put it down."

"Can you ever put a book down before you finish?" Gus asks, half-seriously despite trying to sound teasing.

The two boys sit at the table.

"The others still haven't arrived?" Mikey asks.

Gretchen shakes her head. "Vince is at the basketball hoops shooting and of course, TJ and Spinelli…" She finishes with a knowing shrug.

"Will be late," Gus verbalizes for her. "As always."

"Wouldn't be the first day of school without TJ rushing to beat the bell," Mikey says. "Nothing says TJ Detweiler better than the image of a boy trying to soak in the final few seconds of summer vacation."

The three share a chuckle and Gretchen reaches for her bag, placing her book in the front pocket. They begin to chat about their classes and what they have first. Gretchen and Mikey, though in two different classes, need to go in the same direction, leaving Gus to head downstairs to the basement himself. His math class is located in an area of the school that feels almost dungeonous, with a lack of natural sunlight in the hallways.

There's a group milling outside of what he thinks is his math classroom. He glances down at the schedule in his hand and then back up to the number over the door the students are standing by. Yup, 003. He looks around at the faces and recognizes his classmates from last year. He is definitely in the right place.

He feels someone come to stand beside him and he turns, expecting to see Spinelli. But it's not her.

It's Ashley T.

"Do you know what's going on?" she asks, adjusting her green backpack on her shoulders.

Ashley T is the only other Third Streeter in this math class besides himself and Spinelli, but that didn't mean he spoke to her a lot last year. He sat in the far corner next to a kid named Chester he remembered from Spiro Agnew. She sat in the first row, exactly five rows in front of him, and, much like him, didn't say much the whole year. Gus isn't one to raise his hand in class and, turns out, neither is Ashley T. The only interaction the two had was merely being in the same classroom.

But maybe she feels the same intimidation he feels when going up to classmates he doesn't really know. Better to ask a question to someone you're at least semi-comfortable with than to go up to a near-stranger.

He shrugs in response. "No idea. Door must still be locked?"

She turns back toward the group of their classmates. "Maybe the teacher's late?"

"Maybe," he says, his voice cracking slightly.

He turns away from her and sucks in a breath. In what world does he speak to an Ashley? Spinelli might kill him if she comes and sees him standing with Ashley T, even if Ashley T is the least worst. The Ashleys were their playground nemeses. He shakes his head at his innate suspicion of her. She is just trying to figure out what's going on. It's not like she's trying to be friends or anything. She's just curious.

He looks back up and sees her still looking around at their classmates.

"I did hear that Mr. Wolfman is kind of weird," Ashley T says. She crosses her arms. "Rumor is he, like, doesn't talk."

"So, how does he teach?" Gus asks.

Ashley T shrugs. Before she can answer his question further, the door to the classroom opens and their teacher steps out into the hallway.

"Guess we're about to find out," Ashley T says before turning away from Gus and toward their teacher.

The teacher has a list in his hand and he looks down. "Samantha Baker," he reads.

A blonde girl steps out of the crowd and the teacher points inside the classroom. "First chair," he says. Once the girl is inside the classroom, Mr. Wolfman looks back down at his list. "Christopher Brown."

Gus shares a look with Ashley T.

"He does seem like a man of few words, huh?" Gus says. She nods her head in response.

Mr. Wolfman doesn't add anything else to his instructions. All he does when he speaks is read a name from the attendance sheet. He told Sammy Baker to sit in the first chair and Chris Brown to sit in the second. The next person to be called, Katherine Campbell, is instructed to go to chair three.

Gus feels a shift at his side and turns. Spinelli comes to stand beside him, her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What the heck is this?" she asks, pulling one of her arms out to gesture ahead of her.

"He's calling us into the room in alphabetical order from what I can tell," Gus tells her. "Apparently it's assigned seating."

She rolls her eyes and returns her arms to the crossed position.

"Oh goody," she mumbles sarcastically.

He nudges her arm. "I'm sure it won't be that bad. And, anyway, even if it is, we can commiserate together," he says. When she doesn't look any happier, he gives her a small smile. "I'm happy to have a friend this year, even if we don't end up sitting together."

"Yeah, this would be pretty miserable to do alone," she agrees.

"Gustav Griswald!"

He looks away from Spinelli and sees the group of his classmates part like the Red Sea to let him through. He grabs the straps of his backpack and turns to give Spinelli a little wave. He turns to his other side, but Ashley T has disappeared into another part of the crowd. When he makes his way to the door, Mr. Wolfman tells him to take the next open chair and he walks into the room.

The classroom is arranged in individual desks, all arranged in five rows of six. The first two rows are completely filled, leaving Gus the first seat in the third row. He takes his seat and looks around. There is absolutely no decor in the room, no math posters or educational paraphernalia like most of the other teachers do in their classrooms. It's just bland and empty except for a small table on the side of the room, which appears to be a shrine to Pez dispensers, with fifteen or twenty empty candy containers lined up on the table, all with different heads.

He bites his lip as the rest of his row fills with his classmates and the fourth row begins to be seated. The rumor Ashley T had heard may have some truth to it.

There are only four seats left in the classroom when Spinelli finally enters. As she heads for the third seat in the fifth row, Gus gives her a wave and gestures with his head to the tray of Pez dispensers. He watches as Spinelli looks over and nearly chuckles as her eyes widen. As she takes her seat, she raises her eyebrows at Gus and he just shrugs in response to her questioning glance. He knows as much as she does.

It takes until Ashley T enters the room and takes the fourth seat in the fifth row that it clicks in Gus' head that if they're seated in alphabetical order, Spinelli and Tomassian would be next to each other in their class. He sucks in a breath at the realization. Gus can't think of a worse seating combination. Ashley T may be the least worst but she's still an Ashley and Spinelli, who Gus knows is already dreading this class, has never gotten along with any of the Ashleys.

This can only be trouble. He can see it now. Ashley T will start something and Spinelli will retaliate and the rest of the year will be spent in a math feud. Or, actually, the rest of high school because this math section, much like Vince and Gretchen's, rarely changes year to year. He'll have to keep an eye on them, try to figure out a secret signal between him and Spinelli so they won't get in trouble, something to make the year pass as quickly and uneventfully as possible.

As the final two seats are taken, Mr. Wolfman enters the room and walks quietly to the front. He passes out a syllabus, handing piles of paper to pass back to the first in each row, but rather than go through what's written, he just turns toward the board. The man begins writing on the board, not saying a word and not turning to the class. Instead, he writes a list.

1) Read syllabus
2) Read chapter 1, page 8-10
3) Do problems: 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, 21, 22, 23, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 31, 35, 37, 38, 40, 44, 45, 46

Gus glances down at his syllabus and gives it a quick skim. According to the syllabus, they'll come into class to a list on the board, which will give them a reading assignment and a list of problems to complete. The remainder of what they do not complete in class is their homework. If necessary, the teacher will give a short instruction at the beginning of class, but otherwise it feels like a fairly self-taught math class. And, on top of that, they are not allowed to talk for the duration of the class unless specifically instructed to do so, such as paired partner assignments.

He turns back to the other side of the room, where Spinelli and Ashley T are sitting. Both girls quietly read the syllabus, neither attempting to rattle the other. He watches closely as Ashley T shuffles in her seat. He sucks in a breath – this is it. This is the beginning of the math feud.

Ashley T pulls her hand out of her backpack, a bright green highlighter in her hand, and stops shuffling in her chair. She goes back to the syllabus and highlights something on the paper, not even giving Spinelli a second glance.

Huh.

He has no idea what he would do in the event that something happened on the other side of the room. They aren't allowed to speak or do much of anything in this class, so all he'd be able to do was watch anyway. But he doesn't want Spinelli to get in trouble because of Ashley T, which he could definitely see happening. But he'll think of something.

He takes his book from his backpack and opens to page eight. So much for a good first day of school. He enjoys math, but this seems like torture. When the bell rings, signaling class change, he isn't the only one to jump right out of his seat.

He waits by the door in the hallway for Spinelli and figures he can walk with her at least part of the way to their next classes together.

"What a weirdo," Spinelli says as they head for the stairs. "What's with the Pez dispensers? Really?"

Gus shakes his head. "I don't know. I felt like they were watching me the entire class." He shivers. "Too bad you have to sit near Ashley T."

She rolls her eyes.

"I figured it would happen, but I was holding out hope there'd be someone between us. Just my dumb luck, I guess." She turns at the landing for the second floor. "See you later!"

He nods and continues up to the third floor, hoping he'll arrive at his biology classroom before anyone else tries to claim Vince as his or her lab partner. This year, they have the fetal pig dissection and Vince already told him he'd do the cutting so Gus wouldn't have to and that's a deal he can't lose. If he has to cut into a pig he might actually pass out.

…

TJ watches as his classmates enter Mr. Dudikoff's classroom. It is a fairly decent turnout for the first Student Senate meeting of the semester, especially given that they're only a little more than a week into the school year. But they have a lot to plan for the beginning of the year, with sophomores being in charge of the homecoming dance. As much as he hates to admit it, he's glad the Ashleys have already called dibs on being the chief planners of the event. While he's sure he'll have to rein them in with their spending and elaborate plans, at least they're not starting at zero. He knows those four have been thinking about it since he and Spinelli won the election.

He keeps his eye on the door, wondering when Spinelli will get to the classroom so they can start.

Vince drops his pen on the table next to him and looks up. "I think I've got everyone's names," he says, passing TJ the paper where he has written all their classmates' names for attendance.

It helps them keep track of who they can count on the most for help when they need it. It's not really Vince's job as treasurer to do it, but they don't have a secretary and Spinelli isn't here yet. TJ glances at the door again.

When the door opens, Gus walks in and TJ frowns. Gus and Spinelli have history together right before lunch. There's no way she forgot.

"Mr. Ramsey kept Spinelli after class for a minute. She said to let you guys know to start without her," Gus tells him.

"Jeez, she's in trouble already?" Vince shakes his head and turns to TJ. "Who would have thought she'd beat you to the first lunchtime detention."

"Oh, I don't think she's in trouble, or at least I have no idea why she'd be in trouble if she is," Gus says quickly.

TJ crosses his arms. "What could it be about then?"

"Down, Teej. He's just the messenger." Vince leans back in his chair. "She's probably just trying to convince him not to reveal how well she does or some other nonsense like that."

TJ shakes his head, but knows that could be true. Spinelli cares more than she should about her outward image in this school. Sometimes he wishes she didn't focus so much on her reputation, but that's Spinelli.

"You'll find out what's going on when she gets here," Vince says, sitting up in his chair and glancing at the clock. "We might as well get started."

Gus nods and turns around, heading toward the seat that Mikey and Gretchen have saved for him in the crowd. TJ stands from his chair and the chatter of the students around him begins to quiet down to a murmur until everyone is paying attention. He looks over to Mr. Dudikoff, who gestures for him to begin.

"Hey, everyone. Welcome to the first senate meeting," he says. "We're gonna get started because we have a lot to nail down."

He turns to the board and grabs a white board marker and starts to write as he talks.

"So, the big thing is homecoming, of which we are in charge of the dance." A few people cheer behind him as he writes DANCE IDEAS on the board. He turns around. "The Ashleys have offered to spearhead the planning committee, but I figured we could get a rough idea of what we're thinking."

They start in on ideas for potential themes and people take turns screaming out. Under the Sea. Hollywood Romance. Disney. Masquerade Ball. Casino Royale. New York City. Tropical Island. Paris. The list goes on and when there's a lull, TJ steps back.

"That list looks great," Mr. Dudikoff says from where he's sitting on a windowsill. "So, maybe pick the top four or five and we can make a ballot to submit to all the sophomores during homeroom."

Narrowing it to five causes issues as everyone seems to have clear favorites. TJ sits down and watches for a minute as people start to debate the pros and cons of each – "Under the Sea is so cliche!" – and he shares a look with Vince, who just rolls his eyes and taps his pencil on the table. Spinelli and Meghan Rigalli walk into the room just as Ashley Q finishes providing evidence in favor of Paris as a theme.

She takes her seat next to him and raises her eyebrow. "What is Ashley Q going on about?"

"Homecoming themes," he tells her, gesturing to the whiteboard behind them. "We have to narrow that list down to four or five."

Vince leans over. "Just tune it out. The Ashleys will make sure their theme is picked anyway."

Spinelli leans forward and rests her head on her hands.

"Just kill me now and revive me when homecoming is over," she grumbles.

When they ran for class president and vice president, the one thing Spinelli really wasn't looking forward to was planning homecoming. The one silver lining for her had been the Ashleys insisting that they take the lead, but that comes with the cost of having to watch their every move when it comes to the plans. Those four could very well overwhelm their small class budget without a second thought.

The idea of homecoming only got worse when it was announced that the homecoming game would be on Friday, October twelfth. She was the first to realize that meant the dance, which is always held the Saturday after the game, would be on her birthday. TJ promised that she wouldn't need to help with any of the decorations, but that offered her little comfort. Unless they did the majority of the decorating Friday after the game, he and all their friends would be helping with the setup on Saturday morning. He has been trying to think of something special he can do for her to offset the terrible timing, but so far everything he has thought of seems cheesy.

He sneaks his hand under the table they sit at, placing it on her knee and giving it a slight squeeze. She turns her head on her arms and gives him a lopsided smile.

The group finally comes to an agreement on the five themes to put on the ballot that will be sent out to the sophomore class the following week during homeroom. They spend the rest of the lunch period figuring out other minor details and, right before the bell rings, TJ lets everyone go.

"So, how'd you get into trouble?" Vince asks as the three of them stand from the front table, waiting for Gus, Gretchen, and Mikey to meet them from the back.

Spinelli frowns. "I'm in trouble?"

"Gus said Ramsey kept you back."

She rolls her eyes.

"I'm not in trouble, jerk," she says, hitting him in the arm. She gives him a pointed look. "Ramsey is also the varsity soccer coach. Apparently his goalie broke her leg or something dirt biking in that field off Old Saw Mill or whatever and he's pulling me up."

"Seriously?" Vince sounds impressed.

She shrugs as she sits down. "Well, his backup goalie is also his best field player, so it was either pull her off the field for the rest of the season or bring me up to varsity. Guess he chose the latter."

"Hey, sometimes it's all about timing," Vince says. "I mean, look at Tom Brady. He got his chance when Bledsoe got hurt and now he's got three Super Bowl rings."

Spinelli rolls her eyes. "Apt comparison, Vince," she says sarcastically.

Gus, Gretchen, and Mikey meet them by the door, most of the others at the meeting having already left.

"Congrats, Spinelli!" Gus says. "Meghan told us the news."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I'm Vince or anything," she mutters. "They just need a warm body in goal."

"Humility is but the mark of a true leader," Mikey says.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Spinelli says, shaking her head. "Let's just get to class."

The group appears to take the hint that she doesn't want to talk about it anymore and walk out of the room into the hallway. Vince nods to Gretchen, pointing to the book she has in her hands and asking what it is. Mikey and Gus appear to be continuing an earlier conversation. TJ reaches for Spinelli's hand and gently tugs her back, just a step or two behind their group of friends.

She looks up at him.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course," she says. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just…" He pauses, wanting to phrase his next words carefully. He doesn't want her to become defensive. "You just don't seem excited about varsity."

She shakes her head and glances away from him, toward the others, toward the other students now filling the hallways. Instead of climbing the stairs like the rest of their friends, he gently leads her to the left of them where he knows is a small hallway to the boiler room. It should be private, or at least more private than the crowded hallway.

She glances down at her boots and scuffs the front into the tile floor. "I'm excited," she tells him, but her voice falls flat.

He doesn't press her. He just keeps a hold of her hand and watches as she tries to dig the toe of her boot into the floor. Finally, she looks up.

"I mean, I know it's exciting. I know all of my teammates would kill for this, but I don't know. It's not like I made the team because I tried out and they wanted me. I'm literally a last resort," she says. She sighs. "Besides, all my friends are still on JV and I just finalized my ballet schedule with the coach and now I'm gonna have to do that all over again. And let's just say Ramsey was not thrilled to hear I'm leaving practice early today to go to ballet."

TJ doesn't know Mr. Ramsey aside from what he's heard from others who have taken his class. He is a tough teacher and expects a lot. He can only imagine if he is that way in the classroom, he is probably more so on with his players. He knows that last year Spinelli had worked out with her coaches the ability to leave practices a few minutes early on days she had ballet and she had done so again this year. From the sounds of it, this won't be as easy now.

"You can always say no, Spin."

She gives him a look of exasperation. "You know as well as I do that I don't have a choice."

He wishes she was wrong, but he knows what the repercussions would be. No one says no in these situations and if she did, she would be burning a bridge with the varsity coach.

"I shouldn't be surprised," she continues. "We all heard the rumors this morning about Shelby needing surgery and everyone was telling me this would happen."

He squeezes her hand. "It still hits different when it's the truth instead of a rumor."

She lets out a breath and shakes her head. "It'll be fine. It's not that big of a deal in the long run," she tells him. "I'm just really not in the mood to have to redo all my scheduling and deal with Ramsey being on me all the time about leaving for ballet."

Between ballet and her school sports, Spinelli's schedule has always been jampacked and her coaches have been understanding of it in the past. But varsity sports are different – at least they are for the boys. At that level, the coaches think you have nothing better to do than their sport, especially if the team is any good. He's known a few of the older boys have quit outside activities once making it to the varsity teams.

"Would you ever quit one for the other?"

Her answer is almost instantaneous. "No. He's just gonna have to deal with it."

He chuckles at her directness. That sounds more like Spin. He knows she loves ballet. Sometimes he sees her feet subconsciously moving as if she's going through the moves in her head. But he also knows how much she values her friendships on the soccer team. Choosing between them would be nearly impossible.

She tugs his hand. "Come on, I don't want to be late for class."

"You're spending too much time with Gretchen," he jokes.

Spinelli rolls her eyes but smirks as well. She turns around and starts to lead him back to the main hallway. Before she can drag him into the public eye again, he pulls her back gently. She spins around to face him and he leans down, kissing her softly on the lips.

"To get me through the rest of the day," he tells her.

Her face softens into a small smile and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. Her eyes are such a dark brown that depending on the lighting of the room, he can barely differentiate her iris from her pupil. In the darkness of the hidden hall, her eyes look like dark pools. He reaches his other hand to the olive skin of her cheek and the desire to kiss her again floods his senses.

Spinelli has always been pretty. He even remembers, long before liking girls was on his radar, his mother mentioning offhandedly that she was a pretty little girl. But as they get older, she just becomes more mesmerizing to him – and to the rest of the school. He has definitely heard her name in the locker room when other guys don't realize he's there and it makes his blood boil with jealousy.

"Are you meeting me after ballet or do you have late practice tonight?" she asks, touching her free hand to his.

"I'll be there."

"Good," she says, lifting herself onto her tiptoes to return the kiss. "Because I would like to do more of this."

He kisses her again and when Spinelli tries to deepen it, he fights every urge to let her. If he does that, they will definitely both be late to class, if not caught by an unsuspecting janitor. So, begrudgingly, he pulls back and presses one final kiss to her cheek. Then he takes a step back and lets a sly smile cross his face.

The best way to get both of them out of their current lovestruck state is to tease her.

"But what do you mean by this," he says as they walk to class hand-in-hand. Her eyes narrow as she looks up at him, but her smile remains. "You know, you can say it. You want to kiss me."

"Shut. Up." She says through gritted teeth, still holding his hand and still smiling. "We're in school!"

"Come on, what do you think people think we do in our alone time?" He continues the tease as they climb the stairs, knowing talking about this in public flusters her. "I think even Gus figured that out."

She lightly punches his arm, but still keeps a hold of his hand, burying her face into his bicep.

"Okay, I'll stop," he says, giving her hand a squeeze as they approach her classroom. He tugs on one of her French braids and she looks up. "You're cute when you're flustered."

"And you're lucky you're cute because you're obnoxious," she tells him.

He smiles at her and looks both ways comically, making sure the hallway is clear, and then leans down to kiss her forehead.

"I'll see you after ballet."

"See you tonight."

He watches her walk into her class and take her seat before leaving. His class is on the opposite side of the school and he will definitely be late. But, she's worth the tardy.

…

Notes

A recent reviewer asked about their appearances now that they're teens. I'll try to sprinkle more of that into these next couple of chapters, like I did with Gus in this one.

I imagine that Gus dresses similarly to Will Byers' main outfit in Season 4 of Stranger Things, which is what I based his first day of school outfit on in my head. While I was watching Season 4 this summer, I couldn't help but think 'that is what teenage Gus would wear.'

Mikey's routine ('bookbag, lunch money, tissue, underpants') is from the episode Bonky Fever. Morris P. Hingle is who Gus replaces as new kid in the episode The New Kid.

Their math teacher is based on my sophomore math teacher.

Still Alice is a novel about early onset Alzheimer's disease written by Lisa Genova, who earned her PhD in neuroscience from Harvard. The book came out in July 2007, which would have been when Gretchen was in Boston for the summer.

Vince mentions Tom Brady and Drew Bledsoe. In September 2007, Tom Brady would still be with the New England Patriots and, like Vince mentioned, would have three ('02, '04, and '05) of his seven Super Bowl rings.

I've also finally cross-posted this fic to AO3. In case anything happens to this website, there's a link to my AO3 account in my bio.

Thanks for reading!