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“I’m going to pick…”
Simon has kind of stopped listening. It’s always the same thing during PE classes. He always gets picked to join the team last when they play dodgeball. When they play any time actually. And it’s not that he’s particularly bad at every sport, he really doesn’t think he is. True, sports are not his main area of interest, he prefers art or music, he loves music, but he really can do some sports. Still, the kids in his class keep looking at him funnily, not only in PE class but just in general. There are whispers, side-eyed looks and not-so-discreet chuckles. As much as Simon tried to make friends, talk to the students, he always felt like he wasn’t welcome. And it’s not like the people are directly doing something to him, but all of their actions kind of make it clear to Simon that he doesn’t fit in, that he’s not like them. And true, in a lot of ways he’s not. He looks different, in ways he can’t change. His skin is darker, his hair messier and curlier than the others. He can’t afford all the designer clothes and bags he sees his classmates carrying around. He tried to talk to his mom about this, how he’d like to fit in more but she just keeps saying he’s beautiful and special just the way he is.
Well, if this is what being special feels like, Simon doesn’t think he wants it. His thirteen-year-old self really can’t handle it anymore.
Even the new student, Wilhelm, was picked before him. He joined their class only two days ago, but it’s already obvious that he fits in. He talks to the boys about sports, has pale skin and blonde hair which falls on his forehead in strands of delicate fringe, wears nice, fitted clothes from the top-notch brands. So, he basically checks all the boxes on the belonging list.
“I guess I have to take Simon then,” the words could not be said with more irritation as Simon is left the only one to pick from, for the girl who’s choosing her team members. She rolls her eyes, as if to emphasise how truly displeased she is with this turn of events.
Simon goes to stand with his team, trying not to let it show how such a reaction stings.
They stand for a while as the teacher explains the rules although, hello it’s just dodgeball, which they’ve also played lots of times but apparently, it bears repeating. Simon can feel someone’s eyes on him, it’s like he has a sixth sense for it now. But when he raises his gaze from his feet to confront whoever is staring, he’s surprised not to actually be met with a look full of disgust or mockery. He can see Wilhelm looking back at him, his features presenting themselves in an expression full of sympathy. He quickly looks away though, so maybe Simon just imagined it. He must have.
Once they go on to play, it’s the same thing as always. It feels like he’s become a target for the hardest hits, like the kids are using this opportunity to take out whatever frustration they have on Simon, as if he personally offended them. He has to avoid getting hit in the head at least three times, and the few times he does indeed get hit are a bit more painful than he’d like to admit.
The class finishes with his body feeling sore but he just has to suck it up and keep going.
Simon begins to dread the PE classes a little. It’s not only the embarrassment of always being picked last that causes it but just pure fear for his wellbeing. Some of the kids can really be cruel when it comes to being competitive.
Today, he’s awaiting another dodgeball game and it’s like his body already feels tired only thinking about it. He tried to pretend that he didn’t feel well today so his mom could write him an excuse note from the PE class but it didn’t work. So once again, he’s here, waiting to be picked last.
But this time, it doesn’t happen.
The teams have like three members so far when Simon suddenly hears his name being called.
“Simon,” it’s Wilhelm who speaks, offering a soft smile when Simon looks up at him, a bit startled. His decision seems to cause a wave of whispers and surprised looks to travel through his teammates but the boy doesn’t really pay attention to it as it remains on Simon instead.
Hesitantly, Simon takes the few steps to join his team, feeling the corners of his lips lifting up a bit. It’s a nice feeling not to be picked last. Even if it’s the first and probably the last time it happened to him, he’s going to internally enjoy it.
The game itself still isn’t pleasant. He’s still the target but at least he has the little victorious moment from before to go back to.
Turns out, it wasn't the only time he wasn’t picked last.
They’re playing floorball this time and once more, Wilhelm is the captain of one of the teams. He chooses Simon as the second member now, which clearly doesn’t sit right with some of his classmates.
“Seriously?” Henry, who hasn’t been picked yet, starts irritatedly. “You’re picking him again? Why?” His voice drips in some sort of accusation.
“Simon’s just good at the game, I don’t know what you mean,” Wilhelm just shrugs and gestures for the other team captains to continue forming their teams. Henry and Walter keep whispering to each other with dissatisfaction clear in their tones, but Simon decides not to pay attention to them.
Instead, as he steps to join his team, he easily reciprocates Wilhelm’s smile. This time he also notices how pretty the boy actually looks when he smiles. His cheeks flush a bit at the realisation.
The game still goes shitty and his teammates, besides Wilhelm, barely pass him the ball. But still, as always, Simon is looking at the silver linings.
He’s the last one to leave the showers and finish getting dressed. He usually is, always waiting for the rest to be done before giving himself a quick rinse and changing back into his clothes, it just feels safer.
He’s sure that everyone must be gone by the time he’s done, but just as he’s packing his stuff, he can see Wilhelm kind of hanging out in the corner.
“Hey, I…” the boy starts as Simon zips his bag and looks at him. He seems kind of nervous, anxiously twisting his fingers. “I just wanted to ask if you’re okay? They were kind of tough on you during the game.”
Simon looks at him with furrowed brows. He hates that a simple question like that makes him suspicious but he’s grown to be wary of even the littlest acts of kindness now, always seeking some ulterior motives in them.
He shrugs.
“It’s always like this.”
“Well, it shouldn’t be,” Wilhelm retorts and moves to sit on the bench next to where Simon’s bag is. “I… sorry, I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Wilhelm. Wille, actually,” he offers his hand to shake. Simon eyes it for a moment too long before taking it.
“Simon.”
Wille smiles and eventually lets go of his hand. Simon instantly misses the pleasant warmth of his touch.
“You didn’t really answer,” Wille says then, causing Simon to throw him a confused look. “If you’re okay, that is.”
Simon sighs and sits next to him on the bench. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels the need to give an actual, honest answer to the question. He should just brush up his typical I’m fine and be done with the conversation. But there’s something about Wille that makes him genuine. That seems like he actually cares. Maybe it’s in the way he keeps eyeing Simon intently as if he was trying to read the answer himself.
“I’m used to it,” Simon replies eventually, elusively enough. “I don’t even know why they all hate me so much,” he chuckles bitterly, dropping his gaze onto his lap and playing with his fingers there.
“Have you spoken to the teacher about this?” Wille tries then.
“Yeah. They had a talk with the class when these things started but it doesn’t seem to work, does it?”
“Maybe you should try again then-”
“It’s pointless,” Simon shakes his head. He bites down on his lip, trying not to say too much but it’s like the first time he’s actually talking about this and he can’t really stop the words. “I just… look different. I don’t fit it. I guess it’s enough of a reason for all this.”
“That’s stupid,” Wille snorts. “None of this should matter. You don’t deserve any of this.”
“So what? I’m your charity project or something?” Simon can’t help but question, letting the note of frustration slip into his tone. “You keep choosing me for your team to make yourself feel better or-”
“No, Simon, I keep choosing you because you’re good at the games,” Wille cuts in calmly enough. “And I really don’t understand why they keep treating you like this. You were good out there today. Especially with all of them having it out on you.”
“Well,” Simon shrugs. There’s nothing he can do about this. Everything he tried didn’t work so why bother anymore? Wille’s words of validation are nice though. They sound honest, like he’s really seeing Simon for who he is and for his skills, not through the prism of his appearance.
“And for the record, I think you’re beautiful.”
Wille’s words make him raise his gaze to the boy, whose cheeks now have painted themselves with a pretty shade of pink.
“I mean, you said it’s all because of how you look but I-,” Wille stumbles a little. “I just think-, yeah, you’re beautiful,” he scratches the back of his neck as if embarrassed.
It’s cute. He’s cute. It makes Simon crack a smile.
“Thanks,” he can feel his own face flushing now. He risks a tentative look at Wille but as soon as their eyes meet, they drop their gazes and chuckle.
And this is the day Simon made a first, real friend at school.
Their chatter in the locker room after PE classes continues, as well as outside of it. Wille always stays behind to wait for him so they can catch up. Wille makes him smile more than he remembers since the school year started, he makes him laugh. He picks him to join his team in PE, no matter the others’ disapproval, sometimes he’s even the first one to get chosen when Wille’s team captain. He makes Simon feel those weird butterflies fluttering in his stomach each time he offers him a smile of his own.
And Simon knows it’s not good. He knows this feeling, as pleasant as it is itself, knows it’s leading to a disaster. Because there’s no way Wille can feel the more he’s been feeling. He’s just setting himself up for disappointment by even entertaining such a thought.
“You’re good?” Wille asks after the doors of the locker room close when the rest of the boys leave.
Simon nods, kind of occupied with his thoughts. He knows he has to somehow learn to try to keep his distance from Wille but it’s so difficult while he’s being so kind and sweet and when he’s just there.
“Hey,” Wille sits next to him on the bench, which is how they usually end up. This time Simon refuses to meet his gaze though. “I can see that something is wrong. Is it because of the game today?”
Simon shakes his head. PE class wasn’t so bad actually. It’s like something is starting to shift, the animosity coming from his classmates dissolving a little. He’s too scared to ask Wille if it’s by his merit. If he maybe talked to his friends to go easy on him. Wishfully, he wants it to just be the fact that they’ve finally seen with their own eyes that Simon is actually good at some of the sports.
He shakes his head.
“Simon,” Wille urges then. “You can talk to me, you know?”
He raises his gaze, meeting Wille’s concerned one. He’s even prettier from up close like this. Which is something Simon totally shouldn’t be focusing on now.
“I just…” he starts but then his eyes drop to Wille’s lips and shit, this definitely wasn’t a good move because fuck, he wants .
He’s not thinking straight, his head is a mess and everything happens super slow but also very fast because before he knows it, he’s touching his lips to Wille’s.
It’s barely a kiss, just a peck and it doesn’t even last a second. But once Simon pulls back, he panics completely.
Wille is entirely frozen, only blinking at him drowsily and only now it hits Simon what he’s done and how wrong it was.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mutters and then rapidly begins to gather his stuff. He needs out, right now because fuck, how could he be so stupid and just ruin the only friendship he managed to create here. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats, not even able to look at Wille now. He simply stands up and heads quickly towards the door, pretending not to hear Wille calling out after him.
He's glad that PE was his last class for today.
The next day, a PE class is first. Simon leaves for the bus as he normally would but he ends up just walking around, purposely missing the first lesson because he just can’t deal with this. He’ll tell his mom the bus broke down and he didn’t make it or something. It’s the least of his concerns now if he’s being honest.
The biggest one now is facing Wille after what he did yesterday.
There is a chance he won’t even have to face him and Simon clings onto that. Wille probably doesn’t want to talk to him, or even see him after what happened. And he wouldn’t blame him.
Simon occupies himself with rummaging through the stuff in his locker, waiting for the bell to signalise the beginning of the lesson so he can then make his way straight to the classroom, hopefully without bumping into anyone.
Or someone in particular.
“Hey,” he then hears a voice he easily recognises and closes his eyes almost as if pained.
When he turns, just as he expected, he’s met with Wille, who’s eyeing him with a confused expression.
“You weren’t at PE,” the boy points out. “Are you okay or-”
“Mhm,” Simon answers quickly, wishing for the conversation to be over. Actually, it’s quite astonishing that Wille even approached him.
The boy lets out a sigh.
“Can we talk?” He asks and damn his hopeful eyes because Simon almost caves in.
“There’s class soon-”
“Simon, please,” Wille urges “just a minute.”
Simon bites his lip and considers. Just a minute. Okay, at least Wille will be quick when he ends their friendship and breaks his heart. He nods.
But then Wille does something he wouldn’t expect. He takes his hand and leads him to an empty classroom. Simon almost startles at the touch, as his fingers wrap around Simon’s delicately. Still, he lets Wille guide him.
Once they’re inside and turn to face each other, neither of them speaks for a moment. Simon waits for Wille to start because he’s the one who wants to talk, and he himself is also still recovering from his tender touch after Wille dropped his hand now.
But then Wille moves closer, right into Simon’s personal space until there is no space between them and suddenly, they are kissing.
It’s better than the first almost kiss. Definitely longer and this time he can actually feel the shape of Wille’s lips against his own, how perfectly they seem to fit together, how soft they are, how sweet he tastes.
They kiss until they’re basically out of breath and as utterly confused as Simon is, he can’t say he’s not enjoying this.
When they eventually pull back, Wille has his arms wrapped around him now as Simon’s own are grabbing onto his arms.
“What does this all mean?” Simon questions breathlessly, still relishing in Wille’s proximity as the boy seems not to want to step back. Not that Simon wants him to.
“That I like you,” Wille admits unceremoniously, causing Simon’s eyes to widen. “I really do,” he adds, as if noticing Simon’s disbelief. “I had ever since I first laid my eyes on you but then I got to know you more, find out how charming you are and then you kissed me and-”
“I thought I ruined everything,” Simon can’t help but say but Wille only shakes his head.
“No. It was the push I needed, I…” He lets out a steadying breath. “I really like you, Simon.”
There are the same, genuine eyes that Wille seems to have always held for him staring at him now with so much hope. The same honesty in his words that he’s always spoken to him with. So well, Simon chooses to believe him. He slowly lets a tentative smile take over his lips.
“Do you…” Wille trails off with a note of uncertainly.
“I like you too,” Simon assures instantly. “I really do.”
A relieved and joyous smile blooms on Wille’s lips at the confirmation. He nods, his messy bangs falling into his eyes and Simon reaches to gently sweep them away.
“So,” he can’t help but want to know what it all means. It all feels so new but also so right that whatever is coming, Simon feels they can handle it. “What exactly does it all mean?”
“I was kind of hoping we could maybe try… you know, being together?” Wille suggests and Simon must be dreaming because this is exactly what it feels like.
“I’d like that,” he admits but then feels his high spirits drifting away a bit. “But what would the others say? Here at school, you know-”
“I don’t care,” Wille shakes his head. “I like you. I care about you. And if anyone ever is mean to you again, they’ll have to deal with me.”
Simon chuckles at that and shakes his head amusingly.
“I can take care of myself, you know,” he states as he wraps his arms around Wille’s neck.
“I know. But I want to take care of you too,” he says genuinely. Simon’s smile softens at that.
“Okay,” he replies. He decides he’ll let him. Or at least will try to do so.
And this is the day Simon got himself his first-ever boyfriend.
Who will actually turn out to be the one he’ll spend his whole life with.