Chapter Text
Alana’s tea smelled like honey and oversteeped jasmine.
Admittedly, she wasn’t on her game this morning. She was distracted. How could she not be? She wanted things to be different this year. She wanted to be different this year. A more fun, more open, better liked version of herself. This year, she was really gonna do it. She was gonna make friends. She was, for real this time.
And not the kinds of friends she made when there was a group project and everyone was all friendly, and not the kinds of friends who talked to her during extracurriculars but averted their gazes in the hallways, and friends that were her age, not like the librarians that had practically raised her down the block that always looked at her with big, sad eyes.
This time she knew for sure. Things were gonna be different. She would do whatever it took to make things different.
She took a sip of oversteeped jasmine from her travel mug. It was a bittersweet combo of burnt tea and far too much honey. Shockingly, she didn’t hate it.
It was kinda nice, actually. An acquired taste, to be sure. But…there was something to be said about it, really. There were different dimensions to the flavor, just below the floral bitterness. And the honey was interesting, too, in the way it balanced the earthy undertone that came from tea that had been in water that was too hot for too long.
She opened her door, walking out into the warm August air. It was heavy in the way it pressed in around her. But the tea inside her was warmer than the air outside her body, and burned with the same intensity that she knew was just behind her eyes.
This time, this year, things were going to be different.
She would make it so.
***
Zoe’s eyeliner was off.
It was thicker on her right eye than her left. Which was, to be fair, a pretty normal issue? It happened kinda a lot. But this morning, it was irritating. Because she was out of makeup wipes, and she tried to just make her left eye match, but then it still looked wrong, because the line was tighter on her right eye than her left, and she just couldn’t get them to look the same.
She was going to show up to her first day back at school looking like a clown. And not the funny, laugh-with-them kind. More like the pathetic, point-and-laugh, “wow at least I’m not that guy” kind.
And like, Zoe wanted to be a performer. But a clown? Fuck that. Add in the fact that her hair didn’t braid right, her clothes were just a bit more wrinkled than she’d expected, and the fact that her jeans had ended up distressed due to her foot going through the knee and not a deliberate attempt to look cool, and — well, her jeans weren’t the only distressed thing going on in the room.
Any of these things in isolation? Fine! Cool! Chill, one might even say. The sort of thing she’d giggle with her friends over at lunch between conversations about how Chase isn’t good enough for you, Julie and Jazz band sure didn’t get much turn out this year and Shelly brought cookies, you guys, look!
That was life. Not everything goes according to plan!
But this was a new low of shit luck.
She took a breath, and looked at herself in the mirror. Right. She had fifteen minutes to finish her makeup and make sure it was all blended, because worse than shit eyeliner would be a lack of blending that would give away that she was wearing much makeup at all.
Lights up on Zoe, sitting in front of her makeup mirror.
The sun continues to climb higher and higher in the sky, reaching in through her window to caress all the flaws in the face she’d painted on.
And…action.
***
Jared was an expert in “not giving a damn.”
Like, seriously. He was the best at it. A master, truly, in his field. He didn’t know why he even had to go to school anymore, when he’d so clearly already found his calling. He could handle anything and not care.
Well, anything except —
What’s the world there like?
It looks like things will work out here, but what about your world? Will it be alright?
Hey, other world. Be good to
— Jared slammed his laptop closed, ignoring the burning in his cheeks or the conspicuous sunflowers growing just outside his window. He should’ve known better than to play that game right before school, but…it was tradition. And loathe as he was to admit it, Jared was kinda a sentimental guy.
Because Jared wasn’t really an expert in “not giving a damn.” He was really more of an expert in appearing… to not give a damn. Best that way for everyone. He could be funny, they could be mean, and nobody would get hurt. Nobody’s laughing at you if you’re laughing too, so Jared was sure that he’d always be laughing first.
Still, he remembered his first time playing this game. They hadn’t known the canon names of the characters, not back then. During that first playthrough, they were just…Evan and Jared.
But that didn’t matter. He had to get going, because school was starting soon and his car wasn’t going to drive (or insure) itself, so he had a lot to do.
School. Yeehaw. He could do this.
***
Evan suspected that he looked kinda like a biblical angel — on fire, a bit much with the eyes, and with a kind of geometry that would make grown men run in fear. His shirt? Rumpled. His cast? Pathetic, empty, and white. His eyes? Too wide and probably disconcerting with the way they darted around, tracing movement and conversation as he walked down the hallway. He was all angles and anxiety and he knew it. He reached for his phone, fumbling it out of his pocket.
loreax: god, fuck high school.
essspresso: That bad?
loreax: i was just making biblical analogies. while walking down the hallway.
esspresso: Fucking yikes, my dude. Top secret tneth circle of hell: whatever the hell you’ve got going on.
loreax: i’m not even christian!!
esspresso: Damn, imagine not wasting large portions of your life to a god you’re pretty sure hates you if he exists at all.
loreax: …do we need to unpack that?
esspresso: We Do Not!
esspresso: Can’t get into my sky daddy issues without getting into my daddy issues.
esspresso: You’ve read enough of my poetry to know that’s a Lot.
loreax: …procrastinating your feelings is not the answer, mr. sir
esspresso: Procrastination is just waiting to feel your feelings until you’re in a healthy place to do so. I’m never giong to be in a healthy place to do so, so I’ve decided to just repress like hell until the day I die.
loreax: …dude
esspresso: :))
loreax: if we ever meet in person, step one is an intervention.
esspresso: When we meet in person, I’ll be sure to remind you.
loreax: thanks bestie :))
esspresso: of course bestie :))
“So,” Jared’s voice cut through the candle-warmth of Evan’s chest, “who’re you texting with that look on your face?”
“Jared…”
“I’m just saying, it looks like you’ve finally learned how to do more than hover awkwardly in the periphery of whoever it is you like! Congrats, truly, this is a big day for you, the baby’s leaving the nest —”
“Jared, shut up,” Evan was very, very tired of Jared’s bullshit. “Look, he’s — he’s an internet friend, that’s it. Contrary to what you seem to think, I am capable of making friends.”
“Hey, hey,” Jared’s voice took on a funny tone. “Even if you make other friends, make sure you spend at least a little time around me, yeah? Don’t leave me and my car insurance out to dry.”
“I — I —”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, you won’t.” Jared slung an arm over Evan’s shoulder, guiding him down the hall. “Now let’s get to homeroom.”
***
Connor could feel the surface of his skin. It crawled with the gazes of his peers, who were staring at him but refused to meet his eyes. It’d be silly to call Connor self aware, but he was certainly aware of himself as he walked down the hall. He felt gangly and long, like he was sharp lines and hard edges.
“Oh my — I’m so sorry,” and there was Alana, tripping into him and spilling tea all down his front. “I — are you okay? The tea was so hot, you —”
“I’m fine,” Connor rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, alright?”
“Alright,” Alana’s voice was quiet. “Sorry.”
Even Alana Beck seemed scared of him. And she was the kind of person so stuck in her own world that she didn’t notice she was going to bump into him. Yikes.
He sighed.
“Look, let’s just…get to homeroom, okay?”
“Okay.”
***
esspresso: Hate that everyone in this school is scared of me
esspresso: Like, do I deserve it? Yes. Is it fun? Fuck no
loreax: you don’t deserve it!! And it might not just be you??
loreax: like, I look like i’m scared of everyone
loreax: it’s like. probably weird, tbh
loreax: maybe you’re just surrounded by people like that
esspresso: Nah, if I were surrounded by yous, I’d be able to handle that.
esspresso: I dunno how much I can handle this.
esspresso: Not for a whole year.
loreax: you can
loreax: i know you can
loreax: you’re so much stronger than you think
loreax: and i’m here too
loreax: to carry what you’ll let me
Connor couldn’t help but smile down at his phone. He knew that his teacher knew he wasn’t paying attention, but that was fine. She wasn’t his priority, anyway. He felt warm, and soft, and squishy. His hard edges were melting, in their own way.
esspresso: Why can’t you go to my school?
esspresso: Would make life so much easier.
loreax: we could pass notes and giggle like schoolgirls
esspresso: Judge the teacher for implying that evolution is a fringe academic theory
loreax: judge the teacher for having the “war of northern aggression” on the syllabus
esspresso: Damn, we might go to a very similar set of schools
loreax: rural southeastern us, yeehaw
esspresso: Same! Cursed!
loreax: but hey! we got pretty stars!!
loreax: and trees!!
esspresso: Damn, I’m right on the county edge, so we’re still too “borderline suburbia” to have a solid night sky.
loreax: we should go stargazing sometime.
esspresso: Um. How?
loreax: well, if you go out, and I go out, and we both look up at the same time
loreax: well, we’re both in the same hemisphere
loreax: and we’re also close enough that our timezones are the same
loreax: so we should be able to see the same night sky at the same time, right??
loreax: we could be able to go stargazing together.
loreax: it could be neat.
esspresso: !!!!
esspresso: That *would* be neat.
Something warm and bright was glowing, just between Connor’s ribs. It burned away the thorns that were just beginning to constrict again.
He had to believe everything was going to be okay. There was no other option.