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Shop is the only class they have together. It’s the only one Argyle really likes too. He likes working with his hands. He likes making dumb wooden treasures. He likes watching Jonathan. Not in like a creepy way. He likes making him smile. This little secret smile he makes when Argyle says something stupid. Tentative, like he’s a little confused. Like he’s expecting something else. A shove maybe. Or maybe it’s just in Argyle’s head or whatever.
They start sitting together, bodies close on the rough wooden bench. Jonathan is reserved, shoulders tight and tense, but letting out little laughs here and there at Argyle’s stream of consciousness like monologues.
Shop is at the end of the day. It’s only natural that they walk out together. It’s totally normal to linger by their respective cars. It’s only polite to offer some of his joint to the other boy, blowing the smoke into the line of gray trees at the edge of the school parking lot, brushing their fingers on purpose as he passes it between them. It’s not a big deal. The thin paper is damp from Jonathan’s mouth as Argyle takes another hit.
They start to hang out more. Eating lunch together, taking drives in Argyle’s van, eating late night pizza. Abruptly, Jonathan invites him over one day, looking oddly determined and wary. Argyle’s a chill guy. Nothing to worry about, my friend, he thinks. He gets it a little when he meets the family. Startled, rabbit like little sister, shy and shrinking little brother, equally tense mother. The absolute best kinda people to be sure, but got some things going on there. Things that are always on Jonathan’s mind. Things he seems to forget about when he’s alone with Argyle, smoking something good under the weak starlight in the dry desert, their arms brushing in the trunk of the van.
“I didn’t think I was going to like it here,” Jonathan says one night, his voice soft in the darkness.
“Who doesn’t like California, man?”
Jonathan turns to look at Argyle, face partially in shadow.
“But you like it?” Argyle confirms.
There’s a little silence, the only noise is the rush of the wind. He thinks Jonathan is moving closer, the darkness shifting. His heart flutters, he’s suddenly warmer.
“Yeah, I like it.”
Argyle tastes the last of the words on his lips as their mouths meet.
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