Chapter Text
This boy with his goddamn stupid glasses has completely ruined my life. I was really heading in a great direction. For grades, I mean. All honours, and even had time to focus on the band. The Baggs is a really unfortunate name, don't you think? Well, it's an uninspiring band anyway. I made the stupid decision to join the school newspaper. Speaking of dumb names, the paper's called the Promethean.
First day I walked into the office, at lunch break, there was a guy already in there. He had this whole edgy thing going on with dark hair, kind of accentuated by his major resting-bitch-face. I thought, great, another gasser creep I have to spend my lunchtime talking to. Maybe I'd seen him around the hallways, and I knew he was in a younger grade, but that's all.
When he introduced himself as John, I gave him this sideways peer from the corner of my eye, one of my specialties.
"Didn't you know that's my name, or are you being deliberately obtuse?" I said as I sat next to him, beginning to absently flick through an old issue left on the table.
At first he frowned, but then his glare kind of broke into this beaming smile. I almost immediately regretted being so rude.
"It's a pretty common name, buddy. Hey, John, I've seen you around." His voice surprised me; it had a warmth to it that didn't match the initial impression I'd gotten.
"Sorry. I don't mean to start us off on the wrong foot, 'cause, uh, we're gonna be working together. Yeah, I've seen you around, too." I replied clumsily, finding myself desperate to show the guy I could be nice.
To my relief, he smiled again, the corners of his brown eyes crinkling behind his glasses, and we drifted into conversation. I learned that his last name is Flansburgh, a weird one. It reminds me of the universal kid you meet at summer-camp, then never hear from again. He's got one older brother, but he doesn't seem to have that youngest child entitlement.
Most importantly, this guy likes music. We talked about it for ages. John told me his favourite band is The Beatles, and I said, "I usually pretend not to have favourites, to uphold my mysterious image, but me too." And he laughed like I'd made a truly funny joke.
We actually like a lot of the same bands, and had just gotten on to talking about Sparks, when the janitor opened the office door. "What are you boys still doing in here?" He said in this gruff voice. "Lunch was over fifteen minutes ago."
John and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. Usually I wouldn't have liked him to look too closely at me, because my hair was a mess and my shirt collar was all fucked up, but right then I didn't even care that I looked awful. It was just so fun to talk to someone who got me for a change.
You're probably wondering why I stated that this turn of events has 'ruined my life.' Alright, you got me: that was an exaggeration. But in truthful honesty, ever since that lunchbreak, I couldn't stop thinking about the boy. There was something in me that buzzed with curiosity and excitement when he crossed my mind. I could barely focus on my schoolwork, let alone force myself to attend band practice.
So, classic me, I developed this sort of determination. Monday was paper day, and I would ask him to hang out. John and I were going to be friends, and anything else was out of the question.