Lingering through my fourth period gym class was a continuation of what had frequently happened this school day, gawking faces that stroked my newfound fur and gripped onto the antlers that hung above my forehead. So many people were incredibly nice about me being in a sleep state, other than the teachers who often grimaced at me whenever I got close to dozing off, which I have already done a few times. People still looked over at me, glitter in their eyes, when inside the locker room, complimenting and asking if they could feel me. It's foreign to me, to be welcomed this way. I don't see how these people could mistreat one another if they're always so kind.

I was standing against my locker, changing out of my clothes into new ones. I was just about to put a new shirt back on until a voice pierced the air, a familiar one that at first startled me, yet I grew comfortable listening to it quickly.

"Spencer," Thomas was who spoke.

"You're in this class too?" I blinked, looking over at him. He was no longer the cute spider creature that I first saw him as. Instead, he was a bit shorter than me with light skin and black hair that wildly contrasted the rest of his appearance. His clothing fit his sleep state much more than his human state with all of the muted pinks, purples, and blues. There were still holes in his shirt that would be where his other arms would go through. Without the fur, his face was a lot more plump than I expected, despite how skinny the rest of his body was. My eyes were then drawn to his, though his eyes weren't meeting mine. A faint rosy pink blush was smeared across his face, as if he was focusing on something else in the distance yet it was right in front of him. Maybe I was just too stupid to realize, so I spoke up again, "You there?"

Thomas blinked and stared back up at me. "Wh-what?" He stammered.

"You kinda froze up," I informed.

"I did?"

"You were staring at𑁋"

"Oh goodness, I'm sorry!" He squeaked, hiding his face in his two only hands. "I thought you wouldn't notice𑁋"

"Notice what?" I crossed my arms.

"Um... you exercise..." Thomas nodded. "Yeah! You exercise really well! Your body looks very exercised!"

"That's weird to say," I commented, not understanding what he was saying. As he stuttered to the point he didn't say anything for a while, I pulled my shirt on. I sat on the bench beneath me, staring at him as he scrambled to find his words. "Are you okay...?" I asked out of worry, a feeling I likely borrowed from him from yesterday.

"Yeah..." Thomas nodded, his face still covered as he sat down on the bench I was on, a few inches away from me.

"You can sit closer, if you'd like."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."

"I don't care," I blinked.

He made a soft whining sound as he scooted closer. His head raised from his hands, pivoting to stare up at me. "Sorry𑁋"

"It's fine, it's fine," I chuckled involuntarily. "Is something the matter?"

"No," Thomas shook his head. His hands dropped onto his lap, finding a crease between his legs to rest within. "Do you go to the gym here?" He asked.

"Yeah. Why?" I questioned.

"Um... no reason. No reason at all." He squirmed.

I quietly laughed to myself, "How long do we have until we have to get to the gym?"

"Until the gym teacher comes in and tells us to go," Thomas answered. "It used to be until everyone left the locker room but there were people hiding some drugs or some illegal thing here, so they have to check in randomly and watch everyone get out so they don't hide them or something."

"That's... interesting," I remarked softly. "Well, guess we have some time to talk before we go."

"Yeah," Thomas nodded, looking down at his hands. "Sorry for not being in a sleep state. I did say we could be matching, right?"

"It's fine," I placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. "Did you, at least, get some sleep?"

"I... tried to get some but..." Thomas paused. "Someone came in really late at night and I had to deal with them for a few hours, so it was too late to sleep."

"Well, uh, hopefully you can get some sleep later," I smiled.

"Yeah," Thomas softly sighed, resting his head on the back of the wall of lockers. "It'd be nice to be in a sleep state with you again. Being a human doesn't sit right with me a lot of the time."

"Why's that?"

"It's just... strange. Being human is strange."

I blinked, "But uh... how is it?"

Thomas shrugged, his eyes focusing back on mine before locking onto them. "I'm not me if I'm not in a sleep state, you know? People just judge me solely on my human features and my human clothes. They don't judge who I am and what I would look like if they cracked me open and looked inside. All they see is a sketch of a person with random things dressed on them and a hairstyle that they couldn't make entirely their own with an eye color that doesn't represent them or a body type that they try to alter, yet it always remains the same. A sleep state ignores the human limitations on existence. I'm me when I'm in a sleep state." He explained, passion driving his words. "Does... that make sense?"

"Of course it does," I smiled at him. "I guess I'm just not used to being in a sleep state... or how it is me."

"It is you," Thomas blinked. "If it isn't you, then why are you this? There has to be some reason behind it all."

"I'll... think about it when I'm alone in my room one day," I chuckled to myself. Even if I didn't understand how sleep states work or why I resemble a deer, it was still liberating, in a way. My body felt free, unshackled from a human coil that once chained me to the ground, freeing a body trapped in porcelain like one of those babushka dolls, picking off the top and pulling out a new one, that being me in a sleep state. Even if I don't understand them or see them the same way as Thomas does, I'd probably prefer being in a sleep state over being a human merely for the experience it brings instead of it being what's truly me. Maybe mine isn't truly me and it's just a projection of what I am within some sort of mystical dream world? That'd be cool.

Now that I think of it, I wanted to ask Thomas something. What was it?

My thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of shouting, forming the words, "Okay kids, get into the gymnasium!"

The chatter echoing around the room briefly paused before abruptly continuing once again as each person in the room raised to their feet, swarming to get out of the locker room first in a chaotic mess that I couldn't make out what was happening within. Thomas was still beside me, staring up at me. "You need help up?" I offered, holding out my hand.

He stared at my hand now, his face fully red. "A-ah... yes..." Thomas murmured as he held my hand and I immediately pulled him to his feet with ease.

"You're light," I grinned, teasing him a bit.

"Usually," Thomas laughed, his smile bright and full of genuine glitter. It was enough to make me smile wider than I had before and enough to make me warmer for a few feisty winters. He began walking toward the exit, though he swiftly stopped himself to look back at me. "Thank you," His smile grew a bit further. I nodded, though it was swiftly interrupted by a memory striking me across the back of his head. His phone number. That was what I forgot. I scrambled up to him in an erratic manner, Thomas staring at me with rapid blinks. "I forgot to ask you something!" I chuckled, pulling out a phone, an older model. "Your phone number. I wanted to know in case something happened."

Thomas' eyes widened partially before he pulled out his phone, a strange phone that had a pull out keyboard. It appeared to still be touchscreen but it was still cheap made out of a cheap material and with cheap technology. Still, it was cool, for an inexpensive phone. "Where'd you buy that?" I asked. "It looks pretty cool, for a really cheap phone."

"It was on sale for twenty dollars," Thomas murmured, rapidly tapping the screen. "The phone bill was also reduced. Something about poor people, I think."

"Ah," I blinked, watching him tap away at his phone.

"It's this," He showed me his phone screen, his number on a text document which I quickly jotted down in my contacts. After doing that, I stuffed my phone into my pocket. "There," I smiled.

"It's kind of like we're𑁋" Thomas was swiftly interrupted by the familiar loud voice of our teacher.

"Lovebirds?" The teacher sneered. "Come on already. We don't have all day."

Thomas sighed, shoving his phone into the pocket of his thick shorts and walking toward the teacher, walking past him and into the gymnasium. Curious, I approached the teacher. "Mr. Bawler, why call us lovebirds?" I asked.

"It got your attention, didn't it?" He sighed. "Don't get offended if you're really straight or something. If you didn't know, Thomas over there isn't."

"Isn't what?"

"Do you need me to explain everything very clearly for you?" Mr. Bawler groaned. "He's gay."

"...Okay," I crossed my arms. "Why does that matter?"

"That's why I said lovebirds. You two were exchanging numbers. Clever, huh?" The teacher rolled his eyes. "Let's get out into the gym already, new kid."

"Well𑁋"

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Don't act stupid." Mr. Bawler rolled his eyes, opening the door to exit the locker room.

"Are you talking about his sexuality, if I share it too?" I glared at him. "Why does that matter to you?"

"Curious," He answered, stepping into the gym. "If it's none of my business, then you don't have to tell me."

"Then I won't," I shook my head, following him out.

"...Wasn't that easy...?" Mr. Bawler huffed as he made his way to the other side of the gym where his desk was, a table and a chair behind it with a few papers and a pen on top of it.

How professional of a teacher he was.

I stepped up to Thomas, who was subtly trembling from what I could tell. We stood in a line of various senior boys and girls, some juniors, that were standing tiredly, talking amongst each other as they waited to begin stretching. Many of the seniors were glancing at me, their eyes dancing along my limbs and features as if analyzing me from afar. Some girls stared and some boys examined the certain sizes of muscle and if I was healthy. It was easy to tell when a group of kids were judging you. They would be silent with scanning eyes that don't seem to stop sizing you up, checking for everything illegal that you know you don't have but everything that they assume you have. A few of the juniors simply stared at me, as if in wonder or admiration. Maybe they thought something else than that, questioning or judging me instead. Thomas is almost completely ignored by everyone else, only a handful of seniors glancing at him as well.

A whistle broke through the loud chatter and the hidden silence, silencing both and segregating them all as the silence outnumbered the chatter. "Make sure you're at least a couple of feet away from the person beside you!" Shouted Mr. Bawler as we all separated neatly in a uniform line. My eyes were practically glued to Thomas, observing his shaking body as the teacher yelled the names of stretches and small exercises. Jumping jacks, push-ups, leg stretches, arm stretches, neck rolls, and more, all in order and in rapid succession. They were all pretty basic and forgiving, since the main portion of this gym class was playing a game. I prefer my weights class over this one by a long shot. It's odd how we even have this class. It feels like something I'd take in middle school.

Despite how simple this gym glass was, Thomas was barely making it through most of the exercises, his breaths heavy yet softened. He was more quiet when he was doing the stretches, probably because they were easier to finish. When we began sit-ups, he immediately began to try and do it himself, his feet pressed against the wall. I sighed, sitting beside him, "Turn to me."

Thomas blinked, looking over at me with the same sparkling enveloping his eyes as before. "Why?" He asked, sheepishly turning his body to face me.

"It's easier to do sit-ups with somebody helping you," I laughed, holding his feet down with my hands. He made a soft whine, attempting to execute a sit-up with a tremendous amount of effort but to no avail. His body squirmed and shook as he tried to sit up naturally rather than with his chest, the quaking he once made intensifying to an incredible degree. After he made one attempt, it was already time for us to switch around. "Sorry..." Thomas murmured as I laid my back onto the ground.

"Look, it's fine," I muttered back, trying not to catch the attention of Mr. Bawler with the sound of my voice. "Not everyone's the most fit."

"I know..." Thomas sighed, pressing my feet to the ground with miniscule strength. His arms vibrated as he pressed as hard as he could, as if he was trying to mimic my push. Casually, I completed ten or so repetitions of sit-ups, watching his eyes widen like blowing up a glittery balloon to max size. It was difficult not to laugh at the wonder overfilling his visage. "How are you... how are you so..." Thomas stammered.

"I exercise," I grinned as I stood up, despite him still holding my feet to the ground. He blinked, staring up at me. Chuckling, I held out my hands. "Come on, buddy," I snickered softly.

Again, he blinked before grabbing my hands and letting me pull him to his feet.

We returned to our previous positions as the teacher stepped into the center of the gym, his well-built frame making him a bulky blob in the distance. He had his lips around the whistle before blowing on it, a brief pause before the whistle reached its maximum volume. Mr. Bawler began explaining the rules of the game we were going to play, slowly walking towards us as he explained how to participate in it. All it was was a variation of dodgeball, one where you run toward the center, grab a ball, run back to your side, then attempt to get the other players out by throwing the balls that either get onto that team's side of the gym or the one obtained from the center until your side of the gym has the only remaining players. The only other rule it had was that you couldn't throw the ball at someone's head. Otherwise, the person who threw it at the head would be considered out.

"Spencer, Kai, come up," Mr. Bawler instructed. "You two will be the team captains."

I stepped up and he pointed to a space a couple of feet away from his side. As I made my way up to the spot, I glanced at the other team captain, supposedly named Kai. He wore gothic attire, adorned with spiky bracelets and necklaces that starkly contrasted his black tank top and white shorts that he likely wore for gym class. His expression was tired and his bottom lip covered his top as he took long yet slow steps toward the opposing spot of mine. My eyes were then drawn to Mr. Bawler as I stood where I was directed to go, facing the rest of the class as Kai placed himself far away from me, readjusting his albino white hair.

With a dramatic air, Mr. Bawler tossed a penny from his pocket far into the air, watching it flip through the sky before it landed on his palm. He slammed the coin onto his other arm's wrist and promptly declared, "Kai's going first."

"That guy," Kai pointed to Thomas who hesitantly shuffled up to Kai's side, standing behind him. I was originally going to choose him, though I guess we don't have to be on the same team to enjoy the game together, if he even enjoys these little gym games that these small town people do.

I pointed towards someone on the opposing side of Thomas, a girl wearing a t-shirt and a pair of particularly short shorts. She made a happy chirp as she stepped beside me, giving me a little kissy face as she made her way behind me much like Thomas did. I resisted the urge to cringe. After all, she was only trying to be nice, like any other girl.

Once our makeshift teams were crafted, Kai's team went to the open side of the gym while mine stayed on the side we currently occupied. Each team went to the end of their sides, keeping a foot planted on the border line of tape. At the sound of the whistle, we all ran toward the center.

I was surprised to see me being the first to the center. It wasn't that difficult to make it from the far side of the gym to the center. Why are the boys around me gasping and the girls around me gawking? It's not that impressive.

I bolted back to where we began, making my way to the center of my team's side afterward. All of the other students around me had made their way to each other, throwing small colored balls at the other team. I paid enough attention to weave out of the way of the balls thrown at me or near me though the rest of my attention was seeing how Thomas was playing, merely out of interest. He seemed to be trying to throw balls at other people, specifically the less speedy and athletic ones, but completely under-shooting the ball every time. Sometimes, his teammates would snatch the ball he was currently bearing and throwing it themselves at a random target.

With a sigh, I pitched a ball right at somebody not paying attention, striking them roughly on their chest. They quickly left the field.

Another ball shot toward me. It was easy enough to catch, despite how fast it went.

Another one went for my leg that I could dance around pretty easily. The enemy team's numbers had dwindled drastically to the point where it was only one girl, Kai, and Thomas left. Our team had a few more people. It was a certain victory.

With the ball I held, I quickly got Kai dealt with via a blow to the knee, which made him stumble a tiny bit. Somebody else got the other person out swiftly, leaving Thomas to be the only target left on my team's hitlist.

The competitive aura had changed on my side of the gym. When I glanced at the other members of my team, they were smiling and smirking, as if they had already won. Curious, my eyes were drawn to Thomas, who was trembling the most he had before with a single ball buried in his only set of arms. He must seriously hate this game. Everyone was crowding as close as they possibly could to him, staring him down with visual lasers. Their balls were prepped and ready to fire.

Weakly, Thomas tossed a ball in my direction. I reached for it and the ball slipped off of my fingers.

There was then a chorus of shouts and screams followed by the roar of vengeful bullets of small balls aimed directly at Thomas. He got out once, twice, thrice, and four times over, the last ball slamming into his forehead.

He collapsed to the ground and we won the game, at the cost of a teammate or two and Thomas but I didn't care if I was out or if a teammate was out. Thomas was unconscious.

I rushed to the other side of the gymnasium, lifting Thomas' silent body into the air. His eyes were shut and blue and red bruises were scattered across his body, a blue one spreading across his forehead like a blossom of pain. He was transforming in my arms, pink fluff spreading across me as two pairs of arms slipped around me as he clung to me like an oversized teddy bear. When his other eyes grew, his fangs grew as well, becoming a sleep state right in front of me. It was a spectacle of interchanging arms and shining eyes that shone like spotlights piercing through the dullness of the world. Everything before me was beautiful, a dream seeming to seep from the very pores of his body as he involuntarily squirmed and cuddled into my body as he quietly slept and snored, as if the pain that slammed into him so many times had been erased, not even bothering him as he peacefully and quietly went to sleep.

I stood up, carrying him to the locker room. Every single one of the students both on my team or sitting on the sidelines after being struck out of the game were staring me down, seeing who I was holding and who was holding Thomas over and over again, double checking and triple checking what was happening. If rumors are easily formed and spread in a school like this, then I don't care. I don't care if people think lowly of me or people who like those of the same sex. Nothing else matters to me anymore right now except for Thomas' safety.

This was fulfilling my most selfish dream, him in my arms as I kicked open the locker room door and rushed inside.

I am officially the most selfishly happy person in the world right now and I didn't care about what anybody thought of me because of how selfish I was.

I was selfish and happy.

So I relished in my selfishness as I kept him in my arms as I sat on the bench and I watched him lay in my arms selfishly because, again, I am selfish.

Yet I'm ecstatic.