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Connor noticed the boy’s red shoelaces first. He noticed because his own were red—though, such a dark shade you wouldn’t notice. Imagine if Amanda noticed! Shoelaces were not a part of the uniform but his government appointed guardian did not tolerate non-conformity. If she noticed his preference for extremely dark maroon, he’d be grounded for life. These shoelaces, however, were bright, almost orange red, laced into black and white sneakers. Danger red.
They didn’t move so Connor had to gingerly step over them, feeling their owners watching him. Connor sat down in the second chair outside the principal’s office, back straight, hands folded in his lap. The boy beside him belatedly stopped man-spreading and sat up. Their shoes lined up. The boy next to him wore at least a size ten.
“What are you in for?” the boy asked.
Connor cut his gaze to the side, a glare all planned out—which crumbled when he saw the one green eye looking back at him. The other was obscured by a bag of ice the boy held to his warm brown skin. For all his lounging and disheveled patch-covered uniform jacket, the boy looked more at home among the awards cabinets and wood paneling than Connor ever could. He smoothed his own jacket, aware that the boy next to him was very much not up to dress code. “What are you in for?”
The boy toed a can of spray paint on the floor. “You know that back wall of the gym that makes rope-climbing even more depressing?”
Connor nodded.
“Picture it: ‘I’m more than what they say’, gold and Prussian blue.” He sighed. “I picked the perfect font. They’re going to paint over it with gray that doesn’t even match the wall.”
Connor looked away. “You’re going to be expelled for that.”
“…Maybe not. I’m Markus.”
“Connor.” Connor bit his lips. Why was he telling this—this vandal anything? Amanda would never approve.
Markus just smiled and watched him. It took Connor a second to realize he was waiting for his answer. Connor’s gaze darted around before he whispered to the bright red shameless shoelaces, “I cheated on an exam,” and was ashamed.
“In what?” he asked, as if asking what was for lunch.
“History. I had a note card but it slipped off my desk as they were handing out the exams, and the teacher took it, so…I probably still failed.”
Markus frowned under his bag of ice. “You’re doing better than anyone else in that class.”
“I wonder how well that excuse would go over if I brought home an A-minus.” Wait, this guy noticed him before?
Someone snickered. It was probably Markus, but he just said, “I think your parents might be missing the point, man,” and he didn’t seem to be laughing.
Connor blurted, “I’m fostered,” without meaning to. If Amanda saw this—“How do you get a black eye from graffiti?” Anything to change the subject.
Markus lowered the ice, as if noticing it for the first time. “Well, one thing leads to another, I guess.” Markus shrugged, nudging his shoulder in the process. “What are you doing for your final presentation?”
Connor wrung his hands. “It doesn’t matter. They’re going to expel me.”
Markus laughed. “Yeah. Come on, you came up with an idea already, right?”
“I was thinking about…chess? It has a very compelling history. Did you know in 1997—”
“—A computer defeated the world chess champion.”
“…Right.” Connor turned toward him. You know about chess?”
Markus took out his phone and in two seconds he had a chessboard app open on the screen, showing numbers of wins and losses. “This is crazy. I didn’t think anyone here liked chess. You play, right?”
Someone groaned, or maybe it was just Connor’s guilty stomach. “Y-yeah? I guess it’s not cool…”
“Who cares! You want to play me?” He adjusted the settings in the app. “I can’t believe we got called to the office at the same time, it must be—” Markus beamed up at him. “This must be fate or something.”
“No phones, Mr. Manfred.” Principal Perkins appeared in the door of the office and plucked the phone from his hand. “I’ll see you in a moment. Come in, Mr. Stern—and might I be the first to offer you congratulations?”
“C-congratulations?” Connor gulped.
“Of course—they’ve just announced the scholarship recipients and you were top of the school.” Perkins glanced at Markus with disdain. “Unlike some students. Sorry to keep you waiting out here with him.”
“That’s a microaggression, Principal P,” Markus said, unbothered. He was looking at Connor with a little smirk on his face.
Connor opened his mouth to confess his crimes, but Markus nudged his knee and shook his head imperceptibly.
“Go get more ice for your eye,” Principal Perkins snapped, but must have been actually scared by his comment because he added, “Two weeks detention, get back to class. Right this way, Mr. Stern.”
“Congratulations,” Markus said as they stood.
“Thanks,” Connor muttered. Guilt roiled inside him and he decided to, of course, come clean. Markus seemed to read this on his face because he rolled his eyes as he turned away. Connor hurried into the office, best get this over with—
He tripped and fell just as he heard a yelp behind him. He rolled over to see Markus’ bright red shoelaces had been tied to his own dark ones with double knots. A cackle erupted from under the chairs.
“Leo!” Markus growled, and rolled over so he could lunge at the other boy, who had apparently been curled up under the seats the whole time.
“Manfreds!” Perkins bellowed. He worked on separating the wrestling pair while Connor untied the shoestring—but decided that abandoning his shoe was better. He scrambled away as Perkins caught Markus and Leo both by the collar.
“My apologies,” the principal huffed. “Stern, I’ll have to talk with you later—”
“Nice to meet you,” Markus said, waving a little shyly even as his other eye was starting to swell up.
“You’re welcome!” Leo said, though this was directed at Markus as they boys were dragged into the office. Connor limped to the front desk to see if there was another shoe he could borrow. Good thing he got news about those scholarships, Amanda might not even notice. Good thing Markus and Leo had that fight, he could talk to the teacher about cheating, first. Maybe it was…fate.
And maybe, if nothing too bad happened, he could reward himself by buying a slightly brighter pair of shoelaces.