Chapter Text
Josh was the first one to his chemistry class on his first day of junior year; he was always early, a habit drilled into him by his father that had only proved helpful in recent years. The only other person in the room was the teacher, a stern looking man in his late fifties who Josh had heard nothing but bad things about. He was at his desk sorting through papers, and Josh watched him from across the room with nothing better to do.
He let his mind wander for a moment, thinking about football practice and how he would really rather stay home and get a head start on his assignments, but his team needed him. It wasn’t necessarily his passion; sports were just the kind of thing he was expected to do, and Josh found he was quite good at them. Being on the team made him friends, gave him a table to go to in the cafeteria when back in junior high he ended up on the fringes of another group’s conversation. He just found that he didn’t quite fit with his teammates, and as much as he tried not to think about it, a part of him knew that it had a lot to do with the way he looked at the other boys when they weren’t watching.
It wasn’t like they were aware of the fact, but Josh knew exactly how they would take it if they did. So he kept his distance, and he didn’t open up to them the way he hoped one day to be able to open up to someone. They were good friends to the Josh Nichols that the world knew, just not to the Josh Nichols that he really was underneath it all. It was alright, though; he just had to hope that one day things would be different. That one day he’d find someone he could trust with those things he otherwise felt he had to keep underneath the surface.
What he didn’t expect was for that person to show themselves in that very chemistry class Josh was currently waiting in.
He was the fifth person in class that day, backpack hanging off one shoulder and a tattered denim jacket as he paused in the doorway for a moment looking around the room. He seemed to be surveying the people already there; Josh was at his desk right in the middle, two girls were sitting in the back talking about their summer vacations, and the other boy was sitting a few seats away from Josh writing down the homework to read the first chapter of their textbook that was on the board.
What Josh didn’t expect was for this boy to take a seat next to him, bright smile and all. He had much more energy this early in the morning than most other kids Josh knew, though he got up particularly early, so it wasn’t really fair for him to judge. He slid into the seat, opening his bag to take out a notebook decorated with so many stickers Josh could barely make out that the surface underneath was just a plain grey. He couldn’t help but watch this other boy, though he didn’t realize he was starting until he acknowledged Josh.
“Hi. I’m Nate.”
“Josh.” He looked back down at his own desk, avoiding eye contact and the embarrassment he always felt when he got caught watching someone.
“I don’t mind you looking,” Nate told him. “I spent a lot on the stickers for my notebook; would suck if nobody but me got to see it.”
Nate moved the notebook to the edge of the desk, and Josh took that as his sign that maybe he was welcome with this boy.
“Did you draw some of these yourself?” Josh asked; there were some without the clean lines of a store-bought sticker.
Nate nodded. “I like to draw; I run the art club here, if you’re interested.”
“No, I don’t do art.” Josh gestured to his varsity jacket. “I’m a sports guy, we’re not really knows for being creative.”
Nate shrugged at that. “If that’s what you want. But my whole thing is that art’s for everyone, even if you’re not that good or you don’t normally do it.”
“I’ll consider,” Josh told him; it was a lie, but he didn’t have the heart to tell Nate no. He couldn’t, not to his bright brown eyes and warm smile, jacket covered in patches haphazardly sewn on and ripped jeans. He seemed nice; just not part of Josh’s crowd. And he knew by now that it was easiest to stay right in his own lane.
Josh looked on as Nate pulled out his sketchbook, starting on some new project. If Nate noticed he was watching, he didn’t say anything, putting all his attention into the mess of lines that slowly turned into their teacher sitting at his desk. By the time the bell rang, it had become a rather accurate rendition, even capturing that harsh look he had as he surveyed the class; it was the very same harsh look that greeted them all once the bell rang and class had begun.
***
Josh wouldn’t have told anyone, but he was looking forward to chemistry again on the second day of school. He had done the reading assigned (twice), and having answered a few questions the first day he was certain the teacher would eventually warm up to him. There was also a part of him that hoped Nate would choose to sit next to him again. He doubted it; if Josh were him, he wouldn’t have sat with the guy in an army shirt and varsity jacket. But Nate was also confident in the kind of way that Josh figured meant he wouldn’t let any of that stop him.
Sure enough, Nate arrived to first period just a few minutes after Josh and slid right back into the same seat as the previous day.
“Hi,” Josh greeted him quietly; an acknowledgement, but not much more, because he didn’t really know what else to say.
“Hey.” Nate smiled, and Josh realized he did quite like his smile. It was something about the way it extended across his whole face and lit up his eyes, the way he seemed fully happy and not performative in the slightest. Josh knew what it was like to be performative; he did it all the time with the football guys.
“Did you finish your drawing yesterday?” Josh asked, trying to make conversation; small talk was never his forte, but he had learned enough by now to manage.
“Which one?” Nate asked.
“The one you were doing yesterday; it had Mr. Evans in it,” Josh explained.
Nate smiled at that. “Yeah. It was just a sketch.”
“It was good, though. I mean, it looked just like him.”
“You can keep it if you want,” Nate told him. “I was just bored; I don’t have a use for it.”
Josh shook his head. “It’s alright. It’s yours.”
“Alright.” Nate reached into his backpack, grabbing his sketchbook again. “And, did you do the reading? Because I didn’t.”
“I did.” Josh opened his notebook to the chemistry section. “You can read my notes if you want. I doubt he’s going to quiz us on it on the second day, though.”
“You never know; this senior in art club had Evans last year and all she did was complain about how hard the class was.”
Josh passed his notebook over to Nate who seemed to just be skimming it, trying to get the main points down. “You take good notes.”
“Thanks.” Josh smiled. “It’s horrible to take them when I’m reading, but it’s the only way I managed to pass my bio final last year, so I figured I’d try it again.”
“I’ll have to keep you around so I don’t fail chem,” Nate told him, jokingly, though Josh could tell he was being at least a bit genuine. “You’re good, for a football guy.”
“Well, I want to go to med school one day, so I’m trying to keep up my grades,” Josh admitted. “I’m probably going to enlist right after I graduate, but I want to be able to get into college in case I change my mind.”
“Military?” Josh nodded. “You seem like a military guy.”
“My dad was in the army right after high school,” Josh explained. “And my grandfather fought in the second World War. Most of the men in our family join.”
“So that’s what’s with the army shirt,” Nate noted.
“It’s my father’s,” Josh told him.
“Alright, first period, the bell’s about to ring. I want to see notebooks on desks, we’re having a reading check for the first chapter to see how many of you can actually handle doing your assignments,” Mr. Evans announced, the class falling into silence. “It’s easy if you did the reading. It’s hard if you didn’t.”
“Good luck,” Josh whispered, and Nate smiled at him.
Maybe junior year wouldn’t be so bad after all.