Chapter Text
It looked mindlessly boring. Whizzer peered out the window, observing house after house go by, not noticing any change apart from an American flag here and there. Music blasted in his ears, some kind of jazz song; they all sounded the same to him but he couldn’t stop listening to it. However, this one was particularly bad, to the point that he had to turn it off just to cleanse his thoughts, but also because he ran out of free skips (he wasn’t gonna pay for Spotify premium just to skip some mediocre song).
”Feeling alright?” His aunt looked into her rear view mirror to look over at him, still trying to keep her eyes on the road even though the streets were dead straight, and the only cars in sight were parked in driveway after driveway.
“You seem down. I know the first day of school is never the best but it’s gonna be great in the long run,” she reassured, though Whizzer wasn’t paying much attention. “Before you know it we’ll be settled down and we can forget all about Omaha and parents and it’ll just be you and Aunt Tracie, yeah?”
Whizzer knew she was trying to be comforting, but the question in her tone almost sounded like she was reassuring herself that this was the right decision. He wasn’t feeling nervous. After all, it was his idea to run away in the first place, Aunt Tracie’s move to New York was just a convenient coincidence. Still, he thanked her for the reassurance, wanting to end the conversation as soon as possible so he could just think.
”I know it’s hard, Mark, but it’s for your own good.” That name stung like a razor blade scraping across his skin.
”I told you not to call me that,” he snapped, instantly regretting his harshness as he looked at her crestfallen face.
”I’m sorry. Whizzer. You can’t expect me to suddenly switch names for a kid I’ve know for sixteen years. But I’m trying, okay? For you.” Her tone had a ferocity to it that Whizzer didn’t recognise, as if there was an underlying bitterness to it, but he didn’t say anything, worried to make the situation worse. He hadn’t thought of it until this point, but it had to be pretty rough for her. A twenty seven year old, ready to start her career as an independent woman, having to pick up the slack that her sister left because she couldn’t stand to have a son that didn’t fit her perfect standard. Whatever. That’s in the past now. What matters is the future. This moment that will shape the rest of your life.
The two sat in silence for a few more minutes, watching the mundane houses zoom by as they drove, until the car slowed and Tracie pulled up to the curb.
”Alright. Hop out and we’ll get you oriented.” Whizzer opened the door, not aware of the car that sped past him, nearly tearing the door off. Great start to the semester. He looked up at the building. It was modern, with navy blue panels on the walls, but not an eyesore; it was more stylised than Whizzer expected. Still the fresh exterior had some flaws, dirt beginning to coat the walls where it met the floor, graffiti peeking behind some trash cans, probably some kids trying to be edgy while stoned out of their minds. The courtyard was nice enough. A few trees here and there, the grass trimmed nicely, but again, nothing special. Even the school emblem was average.
It was just a normal school, for some reason not what Whizzer expected. Maybe he had romanticised this new life in the city, where he could be whoever, but he quickly realised that New York didn’t live up to the expectations that movies set for him.
”Remember to be friendly, but not too over the top. No one likes a suck up.” Tracie reminded him, “And I know I’m gonna sound cliche for this but just be yourself. You’re never gonna be happy if you pretend to be someone you’re not again. This is your chance to start fresh. Don’t waste it.” It almost seemed like she was talking to herself again, but the sentiment was there. They hugged, exchanged goodbyes, and she left, leaving Whizzer on the sidewalk to take it all in.
- - -
Whizzer strolled into the office, taking it all in, but also relieved that he didn’t have to push past loads of cranky teens, annoyed to start the school year.
”Hey, I’m a new student starting this year. I think I’m meant to sign in here.” He said to the office lady, who didn’t look away from her computer screen, and merely gestured to his left, to a sign that said Reception . He looked up and saw that he was in the finance office. Ugh, embarrassing.
He brushed it off and walked to the actual reception, to be called in by a warm voice. “You must be the new student, Mark Brown in 10th grade?” The name sent a chill through him and an ache in his chest.
”Whizzer. Whizzer Brown.” He quickly corrected her, hoping that his pace would hint at her to end the conversation quickly.
”Oh, I see. Is that name preference or is it a legal change. We can accommodate it either way.” Her eyes were locked on his, not averting her gaze as she spoke. The corners of her mouth were faintly pointing up as if they were ready to smile at any moment. Jesus. Must be exhausting.
“Or not? Whatever you’d like, it’s your name.” The words made Whizzer jump, and he realised that he’d been silent for 30 seconds, just staring at her face.
”Oh, yeah. You can change it.” His tone was unenthusiastic; the reminder of his past twice in one day had already put him in a bad mood, and he wasn’t feeling motivated to hold polite conversation.
“Great. And how’s that spelt?” The smile never left her face, it was almost uncanny. The thought of it made Whizzer uncomfortable but looking at it was actually quite relaxing.
He sighed,”W-H-I-Z-Z-E-R,” already tired of having to repeat himself. He knew that it was for the best, to just move on from what was, but it still hurt having to give up that part of him, that name, those people.
She reached into a drawer and pulled out a folder, labelled Orientation , and passed him two sheets of paper.
”Here’s your schedule for the year and a map of the school, just to help you get your bearings. You won’t be going to first period today, you’ll be getting a guided tour by this lovely lady right here.” She gestured behind him, and out popped a girl, with large poofy hair that almost covered her whole face; obviously inspired by the 80s. She was pale, but pretty, her deep blue eyes piercing, but gentle, and a large, wide smile spread quickly across her face.
“Miss Jenkins will show you around, help you get to grips with the transition and just be there to answer any questions.” Whizzer didn’t say anything, only looked at her, and they walked out together, the receptionist quickly getting back to work.
When they entered the hallway, the echo of chatter had died down, as most people were in class now, and he was left alone with this bubbly girl. She was smiling so much she seemed almost giddy; it felt unnatural to Whizzer.
“I’m Cordelia Jenkins, and I’m gonna be touring you around the school, you know, showing you where classrooms are and stuff.” Whizzer nodded, clutching the strap of his bag.
“Here’s a list of all our extra curriculars, and it’s compulsory to do at least one, which most people hate but I don’t mind. We’ll talk about those later but let’s get to the show round first.” The words seemed to pile out of her mouth so fast, Whizzer could hardly keep up. But something about her drew him in. She had some kind of magnetism about her that instantly showed him why she was chosen for the tour.
They walked for about an hour, checking out each classroom, the gym, and going through each extra curricular to see which one struck Whizzer’s fancy.
“There’s always the mathletes if you want something more academic. And before you say it’s lame, my friend is in it so watch your words.” She said calmly, as if the offer wasn’t an attack on Whizzer’s very essence. He chuckled.
“No, I don’t think that’s for me. I’m more of an essay based guy.” His eyes kept flicking down to the photography club, but the thought of the type of people who attended didn’t really encourage him to pursue it. “When do I have to choose it by?”
“Next Monday, so it’d probably be a good idea to check each one out before you make the decision.”
“I’ll think about it.” Whizzer paused for a moment. “What do you do?”
“I’m in the band. It’s alright I guess, the people are nice enough. But if you can’t handle pressure I don’t recommend it. Mr Finn, the guy who runs it, is a total perfectionist. I messed up one note on my saxophone solo and he made me stay for two hours after practice until I got it right ten times in a row.” She laughed at the absurdity of it, making Whizzer crack a smile. Her laugh was so contagious, and the hum of her chatter was relaxing to him, it seemed to make him forgot all about Omaha and his parents and his old life, just for a moment.
“I guess I’m glad that I’m totally tone deaf then.” He joked, feeling more and more comfortable with each second of the conversation.
“Anyway, the bell’s gonna go any minute now, so I hope this was helpful and I’ll see you around!” Cordelia said, the same wide smile she’d had on her face the whole time. Whizzer felt a rush of disappointment through him; he didn’t want to conversation to end but he also wanted to go to his first class.
“Can I have your number?” He said, making sure to sound friendly but not clingy - after all he’s only met this girl an hour ago.
Her smile slowly dropped, and a hint of sadness gleamed in her eyes. “Oh, I… um. I’m not.. into, you know..” she stuttered, clearly uncomfortable with the gesture.
“Me?” Whizzer joked, but he could feel that it didn’t land well. There was some kind of disgust underlying in her face, and he couldn’t place why.
“Men.” Oh. That didn’t change anything for Whizzer. After all, it was his last intention to date her.
“Don’t worry. I’m not into your type either.” He smirked, and saw a wave or relief wash over her. He saw that smile creep across her face again, and she blurted out the number so fast that Whizzer had to ask her two more times to repeat it. Just as he went to give his, the second bell rang. Shit. He couldn’t be late for his first class.
“I’ll message you at some point to catch up.”
“Great. You know, I can see us being really good friends.” She said softly. Whizzer simply nodded in response, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly - it was almost impossible to not smile around her.
- - -
One more hour. He was only half way through the day and already he wanted it to be over. His first lesson was Chemistry, and he couldn’t remember any of it. Something about covalent bonds, but Whizzer couldn’t even name 5 elements, so he decided to forget about it. It’s not like it mattered to him in the long run.
The chaos of the morning had died down as everyone slipped back into their usual school routine, but Whizzer still struggled to barge through the hall, nearly being shoved into the wall by some random freshman. Barely making it out of the madness, he stumbled into English. Thank God he was early, or his abrupt entry would’ve set up an awful first impression. Only a few people were sitting down, probably the people who had free period, or the losers who still thought that being one minute late was the end of the world.
He idly walked up to the teacher’s desk and introduced himself. She had a cold manner, but it was softened by the fact that her tinted glasses slightly blocked her probably piercing gaze.
“Alright. Have you read the book list for the semester? We’re mainly going to be doing Romeo and Juliet for now, so I hope that you’re at least familiar with it.” Whizzer let out a relieved sigh. Romeo and Juliet. Pretty much his favourite play ever. Yes, it was basic, but he always felt that he saw a kind of beauty in it that didn’t always connect with other people.
“Go and take any seat you want, but lots of friend groups have already been made, so be wary.”
Whizzer scanned the room, settling on some kid sat by the window, looking out to the playing field. Just by looking at him, Whizzer could tell he wasn’t the most popular person in the world. His laid back posture almost seemed like he wanted to be nonchalant, but he just looked like a try hard, and his Batman T-shirt told Whizzer everything he needed to know. This kid was an asshole. Still, he went and sat next to him, because it was better to sit next to some dick that no one likes rather thank some dick that could beat him up in an alley - at least he knew that this scrawny kid wasn’t any kind of threat to him.
Whizzer sat, not bothering to introduce himself, and pulled out his copy of Romeo and Juliet. He tapped his one AirPod and that same mediocre jazz song started playing again. At least he could skip it now. He read over the prologue to remind himself, as if he hadn’t read it countless times before, and tapped his foot to the beat of the music, following the lines in his head in the same rhythm.
Two households, both alike in dignity
(In fair Verona, where we lay our scene),
From ancient grudge break-
Whizzer felt a brush against his foot. He looked beside him, but the kid was still looking out the window. That was weird. Back to the prologue. He thought to himself, beginning to tap to the rhythm again.
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes,
A pair of-
He felt the brush again, but this time with more intent. Whizzer whipped his head around, and the boy was now slouching, looking down at the pencil he was waving in his hand. But there was a glint of something in his eye that made Whizzer slightly uncomfortable, but he ignored it. Who cares what some weird guy next to me thinks? This time Whizzer tapped his finger against the edge of the book.
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life-
A smack. This couldn’t be coincidence now. Whizzer slammed the book down, scowling at the boy. “What’s your problem?”
“Nothing. Just stop tapping your hand. It’s pissing me off.” There was an acidity to his tone to unsettled Whizzer. Who does he think he is?
“I just met you. You couldn’t just ask me to stop? I don’t even know your name and you’re already trying to start something.” Whizzer mirrored his the ice in his tone, and the kid turned to him at that, shocked that someone would challenge him.
“Marvin. And no, I couldn’t, because I know how assholes like you work.”
Anger began to build in Whizzer with every word. This guy was acting like they knew each other. Like Whizzer was every typical prick. The subtle disrespect caused an unbridled rage to erupt.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? You don’t know me. Jesus Christ, I just sat down and started reading, or are you just so insecure in yourself that watching anyone read hurts your ego because you know you won’t match that intelligence level?” Whizzer snapped, raising his voice slightly to the point that it drew some attention from the people around.
“Sorry that I don’t want to have a constant tapping sound throughout the class. It’s called being polite.” Marvin snapped back, clearly hurt by the insult to his intelligence. God, how egotistical is this guy?
“Yeah and being polite is just asking someone to stop rather than being an asshole for no reason just because you think you fucking know me.” Whizzer began to lean towards him, making Marvin slightly lean away, intimidated by the sudden close contact.
“Marvin and Whizzer. Stop messing around and start working. I’m not dealing with this on my first day, and you,” pointing at Whizzer, “don’t want to get a detention on your first day either.”
Whizzer rolled his eyes, but Miss Goldberg didn’t seem to care much. He looked over at Marvin, who seemed to be a completely different person. What was an irate asshole was now a meek pathetic child who clearly couldn’t deal with any criticism.
The rest of the lesson continued with silence between them, Whizzer completely engaged while Marvin sulked in the corner. Jesus, how petty can you get? Whizzer could already tell this was going to be a long year, and he didn’t need some moody dickhead ruining his favourite class.
Whizzer got up as soon as the bell rang, but was called to the front by Miss Goldberg, alongside Marvin as she ushered the other student out.
“Look. I don’t know what happened earlier, but you two need to cut it out. It’s the first day back and I can’t have you sat alone again Marvin,” Marvin looked to the ground, ashamed, “and I don’t want you to start off with a bad impression. You seem to know your stuff, and I’ll be disappointed if you throw it away because you two can’t get along.”
Whizzer nodded in agreement, and the pair walked out into the hall. Whizzer wasn’t usually one to apologise, but it was his first day and as much as he pissed him off, he couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for Marvin.
“Sorry about that. I don’t know why that made me so mad, but let’s just move past it. You seriously need to work on your temper, though.” Whizzer said with a half laugh. Marvin looked displeased.
“I don’t need your half-assed apologies. Just fuck off and don’t talk to me.” Marvin turned away before Whizzer could even get a word in, and stormed into the restroom.
Whatever. Any attempt at a friendship had been thrown out because Marvin couldn’t even muster up the decency to say thank you. He wasn’t going to let it stress him out, though. He needed a break from the building, and walked towards a bench that overlooked the playing field. Private enough that he didn’t have to talk to anyone, but also public enough that he didn’t look lonely, even though he was.
He sat down on the bench, which was slightly warm from the heat of the noon sun, and took out his lunch from his bag even though he wasn’t very hungry, and watched the baseball practice. Even though the team was shockingly bad, he still enjoyed watching it, though he did laugh when some kid fell face first to the ground while running to second base. He reached into his bag to get a Dr. Pepper when he saw a looming figure above him.
“What the fuck?!” Whizzer exclaimed, shocked to see Marvin with a blunt expression in his face.
“What are you doing here?” Marvin asked, the same ice to his tone as earlier in the day. Can this guy not be an asshole for five minutes?
“Eating my lunch? Is that a problem, or are you just trying to start shit again?” Whizzer snapped, not bothered to seem polite as he already knew that wouldn’t work with Marvin.
“I’m not. You’re just.. this is where I usually eat lunch.” Marvin was more hushed this time, almost mouse like in his demeanour. Whizzer didn’t like the sudden change.
“Well, I’m here now so either find somewhere else or sit here with me but don’t bother me.” He wasn’t in the mood to try and be friendly. Marvin had already established he didn’t want to be friends through their encounter in the hall, and Whizzer expected him to get up and find somewhere else to sit. What he didn’t know was that Marvin was stubborn, and wouldn’t change his mind unless he was held at gunpoint.
However, to Whizzer’s surprise, he just sat down beside him and what the baseball practice with him. What the fuck is up with this dude? He says he doesn’t want to talk to me and then he-
“You like watching cheer practice?” Marvin asked awkwardly, not looking away from the field. Whizzer just stared at him, confused out of his mind. Was he trying to small talk? Whatever he was doing, it just came across as unnatural. The shock of the question lost some of the ice from Whizzer’s tone; he was so confused that all he could muster was a stuttered reply.
“Uh.. no. I’m watching the baseball practice. I find cheerleading totally lame.”
“Oh.” Marvin paused, as if he was disappointed with the answer. “My girlfriend’s a cheerleader. She’s the one two from the left, with the brown ponytail.” With every word, Whizzer’s jaw dropped more and more. This dude had a girlfriend, and she was a cheerleader?! To his own surprise, Whizzer didn’t say some sort of snide comment like he usually would, because he saw the unenthusiasm on Marvin’s face at the mention of his girlfriend, that he couldn’t even think of one to say.
“Good for you.” Whizzer took a sip of his drink, now looking out to the field, trying to disengage with the conversation. Apparently Marvin didn’t pick up the hint.
“My ex is on the team as well.” He had another cheerleader girlfriend? Each sentence was more and more shocking to Whizzer. He couldn’t deny the fact that Marvin was a good looking guy, despite clearly not knowing how to take care of his appearance, but Whizzer assumed that someone so abrupt and snappy couldn’t pull anyone, let alone two cheerleaders. For some reason, Whizzer now found himself intrigued; he had to know how this embarrassment of a boy had done it.
“Oh yeah, which one?”
“The one at the front, with the blonde hair and the pom-poms. I broke up with her actually, which seemed crazy to most people, but they weren’t complaining.” Marvin had a wistful tone, like it happened years ago, but Whizzer could tell that it had only been a few months. Still, Marvin seemed to have no care for her at all. It was so weird. How could you talk so bluntly about people that you have a connection to? That you dated? Whizzer had to know more.
“Why?”
“Why were they happy? Because they wanted her as well. Duh.”
“No. Why did you break up with her?” Marvin whipped his head round to look at Whizzer, a slight softness in his gaze that seemed to show something, but that Whizzer couldn’t place. Regret? Love? He was impossible to read. Still, Marvin went on, apparently comfortable to share his entire life story with some guy he met two hours ago.
“Um..” he chucked awkwardly, “she would get mad at me because..” he looked to the ground. Clearly there was something awkward going on.
“Because?”
Marvin slightly smiled, replying with a half laugh, but there was a sadness in his tone as well.
“Because I wouldn’t fuck her.”
Oh my God. That was the last thing that Whizzer expected to hear. Someone would be that desperate to sleep with Marvin? Whizzer could only laugh in reply, but not a chuckle, a full, sputtering cackle. It really topped off the absurd conversation.
“What?” Marvin’s tone expressed genuine concern. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. It’s just.. the last thing I expected you to say.” Whizzer said through breaths, gasping for air between each laugh.
“Stop laughing. It’s not funny.” Marvin slipped back into his sulky mood from earlier.
Whizzer could barely contain himself. “I’m sorry.. I… it’s not.. funny.” His chest started to hurt. It wasn’t that funny, but he found himself overcome with laughter.
“I’m serious. It’s…” Marvin began to start giggling too, “it’s not funny.”
The two erupted into laughter, grabbing each other to steady themselves. Whizzer felt Marvin’s arm. Damn. How was this scrawny kid actually kind of.. muscular? He quickly tore his hand away, the fits of laughter dying down. An awkward tension fell over the two of them again.
Whizzer pulled out a camera from his bag, only a small one, but it did the job, and took a photo of the field. Marvin looked at him, confusion spread plainly across his face.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking a photo. Duh.” He snapped the camera twice, making sure to get a good shot.
“You better not be taking photos of the cheer team. My girlfriend’s in it.”
Whizzer rolled his eyes, “Yeah, you mentioned that. And it’s not the cheer team I’m taking a photo of.” He smirked, peeking from behind the camera to look at Marvin, who was staring at the floor, clearly trying to piece together what Whizzer meant by that. Clearly he didn’t get his very obvious innuendo, and demanded the photo be deleted.
“Listen. There are a lot of weirdos here.”
“Yeah I’ve been told. Good thing I’m not one of them.” Whizzer took a few more, trying to get the perfect picture. He wasn’t actually trying to take a photo of the baseball team. He just wanted the memory of his first day of his new life. But messing with Marvin was too funny.
“I’m serious. Delete the fucking photo.” There it was. The ice was back in his tone. Whatever chance of friendship they had in that moment was forgotten just as quickly as it came about. Whizzer was actually shocked at his tone. Guess he did care about his girlfriend. Weird.
“What if I don’t? You gonna beat me up. I doubt it.” Whizzer teased, but it clearly was not landing well. Marvin’s breathing began to get heavier and ragged, rage building in him. But Whizzer didn’t stop.
“You can’t tell me what to do. You don’t know me. You don’t even know my name.”
“Yes I fucking do, Whizzer. What kind of a dumb name is that anyway? It sounds like the name of a fucking stripper.” Marvin was clearly trying to dig at him, and it worked. Whizzer was overcome with anger. Who does he think he is?
“Look. You don’t have the right to talk about it. And so what? It’s my fucking name.”
“And it’s my girlfriend. So delete the fucking photo.” Marvin’s eyes narrowed. The childish anger had turned chilling, and Whizzer could barely see the guy he joked with moments before. I don’t care about this guy. I’ve just met him.
“I don’t need this. I’m leaving.” He slung his bag over his shoulder, and purposely barged Marvin into the wall. He tried to storm away, his mind clouded with anger, and his eyes glistening with tears. God. How embarrassing.
Marvin grabbed his shoulder, pushing him into the wall, grabbing his collar.
“Delete it.”
There was a craziness in his eyes that genuinely scared Whizzer. How could this scrawny kid be so intimidating? They stood there for a moment, just staring at each other. Whizzer’s eyes darted across his face, taking in every detail. His teeth gritted, a vein slightly pulsing in his neck and forehead, his nostrils slightly flared. And then he got to his eyes, and he saw a softness in them that didn’t match his face. The eye contact made Marvin’s grip on Whizzer slightly loosen, and his jaw to slacken a bit, as if his anger had been replaced with confusion. Whizzer leaned closer, barely, but it was enough for Marvin to grab him again.
“Delete the photo.”
Whatever stubbornness that was in Whizzer had drained away. He reached into his bag and deleted all the photos with cheerleaders in. In most of them, Marvin’s girlfriend was barely a blob in the background. But he did it anyway.
Marvin let him go. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and he seemed completely unregulated. He looked up at Whizzer, and tried to say something, but it only came out as a voice crack. Whizzer chose to break the silence.
“Sorry. I.. I should have stopped.” There was a different tension in the air now, filled with confusion and the remnants of anger. “I… sorry.”
Marvin looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept his mouth shut. He extended his arm, as if to shake Whizzer’s hand. Whizzer looked down at it. He saw traces of ink blotched on his palm, ragged nails that had been bitten hours before, the creases of his hands. He watched his fingers slightly twitch in the anticipation, slightly bent inwards preparing to grasp Whizzer’s hand. For some reason, the sight of it was pitiful; the desperation was painted across his hand, and as he looked up at Marvin’s face, it was there as well in his eyes.
Whizzer grabbed his hand and shook it. Marvin’s grip was firm, and there was an apology in his clutch. Although he didn’t say it, it was better than nothing.
Whizzer walked away towards the building, not looking behind him as Marvin stood there, overlooking the playing field, looking back at Whizzer, and back to the field.
- - -
“How was your first day?” Aunt Tracie asked him, with a fork in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.
“It was fine.” Whizzer said between mouthfuls. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation, especially not the boring back to school talk.
“Don’t say that. It makes me feel old. Talk to me like I’m your friend.”
Aunt Tracie had a habit of getting insecure of her age, despite being twenty seven and looking twenty two, which worsened after having to take in some displaced gay kid who’s parents didn’t want him. She often opted for the friend approach when she’d had a bad day, which Whizzer could clearly tell by the glass of wine and the slouch.
“There wasn’t much to say. Boring lessons, boring people.” Marvin flashed to his mind, but he brushed it aside. “Nothing interesting happened.”
Tracie frowned. “Come on. There must have been some people you spoke to.”
He could have been honest, and said that he spoke to pretty much everyone next to him, but they were all so forgettable that he didn’t bother. Only two people stood out, and one left him feeling a whole load of emotions.
“There was this one girl, the one who toured me around the school.”
“…And?”
“She was nice. We talked for a bit about clubs and music and stuff.” He didn’t know why he was being so blunt. His interaction with Cordelia was probably the best thing about his day, the rest being boring or evoking an emotional turmoil within him.
“Okay… anyone else?” It felt as if the universe was forcing him to think about Marvin. He knew for a fact that Tracie didn’t know about their argument, but she always had some kind of sixth sense for these things. Whizzer gave in, hoping that it would clear his mind. He sighed.
“I spoke to this guy next to me in my English class.”
She smiled, “Oh, that’s good. Glad you have a friend in your favourite class.”
Whizzer snorted, “He’s not my friend. He’s..” Whizzer couldn’t even place what Marvin was. It was the weirdest encounter he’s probably ever had. No, definitely.
“Ohh? Well, that’s great, honey.” She giggled, hinting at something.
Whizzer shut that thought down instantly. “It’s not like that at all. He’s a dick.”
“Watch your language. I might be your friend but I have my rules.” She said, half serious, half laughing.
“Sorry. He was a meanie.” Whizzer said with a mocking baby voice. Tracie laughed but thanked him.
“So. Not happy with the seating then?” Why did she have to keep talking about it? Clearly her sense wasn’t as good as he thought.
“No. It’s fine if I don’t talk to him, but he’s so temperamental. One minute we’ll be laughing, and the next he’ll want to stab me in the neck.”
Tracie looked at his eyes, and frowned. There was something in them that didn’t quite match what he was saying. His words were nasty and spiteful, but his face bore concern and sadness, as if he was grieving the laughter. She got the idea that something had been said, but she couldn’t tell what. It couldn’t have been too personal. They’d only just met each other. But she saw a pain in his eyes, that she decided was best left unexplored, at least for now.
“I’m going to my room.” Whizzer said, standing abruptly.
“Oh. Okay.” She was startled by his haste. Even Whizzer was slightly confused at this. But he left nonetheless. He flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, and reaching for his bag that he had flung to the floor as he got home. He pulled his camera from his pocket and reviewed the photos that were left, picking the best one to print. Most were the same, some with better quality.
One stood out. The same background of the playing field, but something protruded the corner of the screen. A wisp of a light brown curl that had a slight glow of the sun in it. Whizzer stared at it, tracing the curl pattern with his finger. His thumb hovered over the delete button, but he didn’t press it. He just stared at the curl, but pulled his gaze away from the screen, still holding it.
He fell asleep, laying on his back with the camera in hand, the sound of his laptop whirring, having being left on with his Romeo and Juliet essay glaring on the screen, casting a light blue glow on his face as he slept.