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I
She thinks nothing of the new kid sitting at his desk when she gets a glimpse of him on her first day of high school. He’s just some tall, skinny boy with thin-rimmed spectacles and tousled brown hair—no different from any other nerdy-looking guy she’s ever seen. She barely gives him a glance as she seats herself in front of him at her own desk.
That changes when she hears a light thump against the leg of her chair. She turns around with a raised eyebrow, only to find him sitting quietly with his hands folded together on his desktop, as if he hadn’t just kicked her chair a few seconds ago. She decides it was an accident and turns back to face the front of the classroom.
After two more kicks, she decides that it’s most definitely not an accident and turns to him again, this time with a glare. He isn’t fazed in the least by her irritation. In fact, a slight, smug grin is tugging at his lips, and from behind his glasses, his eyes—startlingly green, she notices despite herself—are gleaming with mischief.
When she sarcastically asks if kicking her chair is his way of saying hi, his grin broadens as he says, “Actually, it’s my way of getting to know you...Little Miss Uptight.”
In the span of a few minutes, she’s learned that the nerdy-looking new kid is a troublemaking smart aleck. Just her luck.
II
She studies hard for days and manages to do very well on their first biology test. And although she’s usually not one to rub her good grades in other students’ faces, she can’t resist showing off her test results to him. She takes great care to point out the 94 written in red ink at the top of the first page, privately hoping it’ll knock him down a peg, make him realize he can’t just coast through life without doing any work.
To her surprise, he doesn’t snap at her or even give her a dirty look. Instead, he smirks in that infuriating way of his and shows her the grade he’s gotten.
Her jaw drops and she feels the blood drain from her face. She hardly wants to believe it, but there’s no mistaking the bright red 100 at the top of his test. Neil Watts—the guy who scoffs at the idea of studying, who doesn’t take any of their classes seriously—has gotten a perfect score.
Exactly how someone who slacks off as much as he does can be smart enough to ace a test, let alone get a grade higher than hers, is beyond her. She tells him as much, and all he says is that he’s just that brilliant.
She can’t help silently fuming at his arrogance, and the fact that he somehow actually has the intelligence to back it up makes him even more annoying than he already was. She makes a mental note to get a one hundred on their English test—that’ll wipe the smirk off his face.
III
He’s been crying, she realizes when she catches sight of him in a deserted hallway. Seeing his swollen eyes, tearstained face, and trembling mouth—so different from his usual grins, smirks, and scowls—makes her forget that she’s running late to their algebra class.
She moves closer, asking him what’s wrong, but he flinches back. He says it’s nothing and tells her to go away, sounding choked. After a moment of watching him wipe furiously at his eyes, she reminds him about algebra, knowing as the words are leaving her lips that it’s the wrong thing to say, but it’s all she can think of.
He doesn’t yell at her, though, nor does he make a snarky barb. He just tells her to go without him. So she goes without him. She ends up thinking less about letters that represent numbers and more about what could’ve happened to make the most ridiculous, obnoxious boy she knows so miserable.
Later, at lunchtime, she finds him sitting at a table by himself and decides to sit with him. He doesn’t object to her being there, and after a few minutes of eating in silence, she asks, “Can I ask about...you know?”
He stares at his bag of chips as he speaks, his voice emotionless. “My grandpa’s dead. It’s been a whole year.”
“I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t say anything further, and she doesn’t push him. They have lunch together again next Monday, then again on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. By the end of that week, although the bickering between then hasn’t ceased, there’s far less spite than there was before.
IV
She watches him play Watson in their school’s production of Sherlock Holmes: The Musical, and it’s not too bad.
Oh, sure, the plot itself can’t seem to decide if it wants to be a parody or a serious, dramatic tale, and a few of the actors have no business being onstage, but she finds herself impressed by his performance as Watson. From conveying utter disbelief that Holmes could miss Moriarty to singing about what his old days in the military were like, no one can accuse him of not giving the role his all.
When she meets him backstage, she quips that she guesses his dramatics can be good for something. He just scoffs and says that his dramatics can be good for everything.
V
He’s gotten himself a girlfriend—Emma Edwards—and she has to pinch herself to know she’s not having a weird dream.
It’s not like he hasn’t shown interest in girls before. Back in their freshman year, he practically tripped over his own feet in his attempts to get Kelly Grey to go out with him, but she shot him down every time. A girl being interested in him is something else entirely. Eva guesses there really is a first time for everything.
Despite what the teasing of her friends would suggest, she honestly isn’t jealous that he’s dating Emma. She’s more confused than anything else. She doubts his flirting tactics have improved much in the last couple of years, so she’s not sure what convinced Emma to start dating him in the first place.
She doesn’t have much time to wonder about it, because Emma breaks up with Neil after three weeks and is transferred to another school soon afterward. Several days pass before he stops moping about the breakup, and in the meantime, she’s there to provide him his favorite snacks from the vending machine.
VI
They’re in their sophomore year of college when he notices she’s doing something different with her hair.
In high school, she always kept her hair at shoulder-length, but now she’s letting it grow out. The black locks of her hair go from touching her shoulders to covering her shoulder blades to reaching the middle of her back. He jokes about her aspiring to become that fairytale princess with freakishly long hair, but in all seriousness, long hair seems to suit her.
Actually, long hair looks really nice on her. Really, really nice.
He doesn’t think much of it. He doesn’t wonder what it means when he finds himself looking at her hair just a bit longer than usual or imagining what it’d be like to touch those long, soft-looking tresses. After all, he’s a guy whose eyes aren’t completely useless—of course he’d notice if a girl was pretty, and he notices pretty girls all the time. Why should thinking that his best friend is making great decisions about the length of her hair be anything out of the ordinary?
Then she starts going out with David Moore, and he begins seeing his fixation with her hair in a very, very different light.