Why did I do that oh my god why did I do that?

My phone buzzes before we're dismissed from homeroom, but I ignore the notification. I don't even let myself check it. Text, spam email, Subway Surfers notif—I don't care. I simply do not want to know.

I wander through my first two classes like that. In a daze, I fumble through a pop quiz and miss out on a whole class-worth of microecon notes. My phone is deadweight in my back pocket. It buzzes a few time throughout class, and with every vibration, my heart skips a beat. Is it him? Them? Whoever it is? My curiosity is morbid. Half of me yearns to check it, but the other half of me is inclined to throw up if I do, so I'm trying to go for the less messy option.

Luckily for me, I don't sit near any of my friends in my first two classes, so there's no one to notice how 'off' I'm acting. I'm very, very okay with this.

But then, of course, it's the class that I've been dreading all morning.

AP Bio.

I actually like science stuff. If I had a better, more STEM-focused high school resumé, I think I'd be trying to go pre-med by now. Most of my extracurriculars are fine arts focused—even though I'm probably going to get a degree in data science or something—but with biology, I really enjoy the rush I get when I actually understand a concept for the first time. The teacher is whatever, the class is fun, but the classmates? They're a whole separate issue.

I have to sit next to David Marquez. It's not really my vibe.

We share a pod with Sirina's girlfriend, Christa, and one of the marching band drum majors, Missy. I've known Missy forever, and I love her to pieces, but seeing as David feeds off her bubbly, vivacious energy, sitting with her in Bio is not my favorite interaction of ours. Luckily, Christa is a complete and total yenta, so she keeps Missy busy with band and orchestra gossip.

I'm worried about Christa and Missy noticing how out of it I am, or that David will mention the candy gram. I simply don't have the energy.

But when I trudge into the Bio classroom, well over half of everyone is gone. It's just me, a handful of students, and three Cupids—Nathan Nsenga, Asif, and David. Asif is chatting with Maggie, because of course he is, and Nathan is off in the corner, sitting awkwardly on his stool and trying hard to pull his skirt down enough so that he doesn't pull a Konnor McElroy.

David smiles at me from our empty pod. As I pull out my rickety stool, I notice something different about his face, a little glimmer that wasn't there two periods ago.

"Are you wearing makeup?" I ask him.

The smile turns into more of a beam. "Yes I am. Aren't I pretty?"

Look. Okay. Objectively, David is gorgeous, right? He's got those chocolatey puppy eyes and that stupid dopey little smile and that seriously stupidly perfect body, and I just think that to ignore that would be stupid. So, yes. He's hot. And pretty. He'd probably be intimidatingly ruggish if he weren't, like, five-three, but because he's fun-sized, it gives him this adorably approachable quality. Add to that the constant happy vibes and what might just be a literal twinkle in his eye, and David is—to put it lightly—something along the lines of "pretty."

And that was before he pulled up to class with shimmer eyeshadow and lipgloss.

I don't know what else to say, so I just kind of look at him before nodding. "Yes. Yes, David, you're very pretty."

"Thaaank you," he says, practically bouncing in his seat. I want to tell him to calm the fuck down, but I know it wouldn't achieve anything. "Sirina helped me out."

"Of course she did." Sirina is our head of makeup for theatre productions, and she'll find any excuse to give a cis man a makeover.

David musses up the floppy front part of his hair before smoothing it back into place. "I feel dashing as hell."

I give him as dead-eyed a look as I can possibly muster.

Our Bio teacher stops about five steps into the classroom and groans. "Oh man, is that band thing today?" He drops a thick stack of papers onto his desk. "Maaannnn. We were gonna do a lab today."

He glances at his watch, then at the clock on the wall, as if to make sure they read the same thing. He furrows his brow. "Alright, well, I'm not really supposed to do this, but ... you guys can just go study elsewhere today. Free period. Do what you want. Just, try to study some bio? Maybe?"

Oh, sweet. I think I might just go nap in the tech booth. The perfect free period activity.

David is already packing up his bag when he asks it: "Do you wanna study together?"

I can't help but look behind me, just to make sure that he wasn't mistaking me for anyone else. Surprisingly, there's no one there. "Are you sure you wanna study with me?"

Historically speaking, David and I have never had willing one-on-one time. Hardin isn't an especially large town, so we've been partners before, but those were always assigned. In a lineup of twenty or so people, there is always someone whose company David Marquez greatly prefers to mine.

He gives this little half-smile. I gotta say, I love when he smiles and his nose scrunches up just right. Like, I don't know if I want him, or I want to be him. The little half-smile seems more genuine than any of David's other smiles or expressions. He's cute. He's cute, and he knows it. If Missy were here, she'd definitely call the little half-smile a "smirk," which just feels too Wattpad for me to abide by, but is begrudgingly accurate. But unlike Wattpad bad boys, it's not douchey when David does it. And I like that.

And then he ruins it.

"I just really need updates on the secret admirer tea," he says.

I wince. "Dude, there aren't any updates to be had."

"Well did you text him?" He's all done packing up his bag, while I've just started shoving my plethora of academic bullshit—binder and notebook and laptop and pencil case and calculator (gross)—into mine. It's nice, because I don't have to look at him while I do it. Or look at his stupid little half-smile, which is beginning to feel less and less sincere by the second.

"Yes," I tell him, quiet enough so that no one overhears us, hopefully. "I texted him. Them. Whomever."

"And did they text back?"

Ugh. "I don't know." It's a begrudging mumble. "I haven't checked."

"Oh my god, Nick, what is wrong with you? Check! Oh my god oh my god oh my god, let's go to the library."

I know I'm making the face again. I don't care. I hate the school library. It's not really my vibe. Usually, if I'm studying in school, I sneak into the tech booth with Sirina and Christa, and we'll all study together, in our little cozy twinkle-lit room, overlooking a dark auditorium. Our school library smells a little too mildewy for my taste. I feel bad for the librarian—she's nice. She deserves a better-smelling library.

But then David says, "I'll drive."

"What?"

He sighs. "Nick, we're seniors. We deserve better than the cramped, kinda smelly school library."

"So ... your solution is to go to the public library?" Because, the public library really isn't much better. It's less mildewy for sure, but it smells strongly of feet. And I really don't like feet smell.

He pulls a white feather boa out of his backpack. Synthetic feathers fly as he whips it around his shoulders with a flourish. And I'm the theatre kid. "Well, we could always go do a coffee shop or something instead."

"Um, no thanks." I don't want to go anywhere with David. Especially when he's dressed like that. Also, there are only three coffee shops in town, if you count the university Starbucks. And I'm a devout Starbucks boycotter, so that's an automatic no-go.

"C'monnnnn," he begs. It's weird. I don't like it. "My older sister works at The Happy Bean. She can get us our drinks half off."

"You have an older sister?" I knew about his younger one, but not the oldest. Is David a middle child? I did not see that coming.

"Yep. She goes to SUSD, and she works the morning shift every day that isn't a Tuesday or Thursday, and she loves to spoil me, her darling little brother." He glances down at his dress, then back at me, biting his lip just slightly. "I'll pay for your drink?"

Hm. Free latte. In this economy? Even if it's from David Marquez, I think I'd be an idiot to pass that up. I sigh. "I just can't believe I didn't know that you have an older sister."

David's smile is full-on now. "So that's a yes?"

"It's really more of a 'sure, why not?'"

"Perfect." He slings his backpack over his broad shoulders. How he manages to look like a dashing action hero while in that dress, I'll never know. "We're getting you to text that number."

A/N: THANK YOU FOR READING

see you next week <3