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It's a month into your senior year. Been hectic as shit and school's already dragging on your enthusiasm to learn or even be social. Luckily you've had Stokely at your side since junior year, becoming your rock, your column of support, your best friend. You two were total polar opposites in style when you first met, everyone was so sure you two would end up bullying each other. Yet you two clicked, developing an unbreakable bond.
"I want to go home." You whined, slamming your locker closed with unnecessary force, groaning exasperatingly.
"I have gym first period, ditch with me?" Stokely asked, pulling out her sci-fi book of the week, 'Dune'. Before you could answer, Delilah bumps into you in passing, her face screwing into something judgemental, as if you were at fault. You clench your jaw, feeling your nerves flare up, which quickly quieten the moment Stan passes by, following Delilah like a lost puppy, pleading for an explanation. You heard part of their distant conversation, something about her being 'superficial'- which she totally was, that's why you couldn't stand her- and how she couldn't be seen dating a nobody as cheer captain. You shrug and pay little attention to her, too busy staring at Stan- who's waving a dismissive hand at Delilah. The way his eyes went all wide and innocent, the way he couldn't look malicious with that sweet face of his even if he tried, looking all puppy like. Stokely clears her throat, smiling widely at you as she regains your attention.
"Right. Ditching. First period, yeah. Uh, library?" You shifted your weight from leg to leg, glancing momentarily at Stan before heading down the hallway with Stokes into the quiet library where you both sat in a distant corner, losing yourselves into therapeutic activities. Her, reading. You, drawing.
Well, lo and behold, half an hour into your activities, both of your attentions are momentarily averted to the library doors opening. Your heart stutters a little when you see Stan walk in, his expression schooled into indifference- aside from his knitted brows- as he plops himself into a seat, a few tables away from where you and Stokely sat. The moment his eyes raised to meet yours, you quickly turned your back to him, hiding your stare, though you were sure he'd already caught you.
"You should go speak to him." Stokes urged quietly.
"Are you nuts?" You can't help but hiss defensively. Okay, you wanted to. Like REALLY wanted to go up to him. But you were a 'freak' and he was the 'jock'. Multiple times throughout the years you've mocked each other, called each other harsh names, often bickering... But that was all a front, a façade to keep you at arms length from him, his type. Deep down you knew he wasn't all that bad, You've seen him help out weaker students, be kind to teachers and on rare occasions even defend Stokely, despite calling her a 'beast'.
"Wouldn't make sense." You countered. She just rolled her eyes. You bury your nose into you sketchbook and forget your conversation three seconds ago. That is until you both feel a presence stalk up to your table. Stan. You can't help but flinch slightly.
"Hey." He muttered awkwardly, scratching the back of his head
"Hi?" Stokely spoke up, before kicking your shin under the table to put you into first gear, making you cough out an awkward greeting.
"This is really awkward, but are any of you good with biology?" You've never heard his voice this sheepish, it makes your brows knit in confusion, eyes flickering to Stokely in silent communication. She does the same thing.
"Actually, she's the bio nerd." Stokely was quick to speak, jerking her chin towards you, eliciting a betrayed expression from you. His eyes flickered down to yours, cracking his knuckles while he fidgeted.
"Can you help me on an exercise..? You totally don't have to, I get it if you don't wanna help me, being a dick to you previously and all-"
"What chapter?" You shocked yourself how willingly you blurted that out. Him too, his eyes wide and confused before he regains composure.
"Genetic engineering."
And just like that, you found yourself sitting at his table, per Stokely's demand, damn her and her wing woman skills, helping Stan out with two exercises, explaining how genetic engineering was beneficial for crops and farmers, using bacteria (Bacillus thuringiensis) as a biological pesticide and so on. You found yourself completely taken by how dedicated he was to jotting notes down, intently listening and even inclined to ask valid questions that had foundation- meaning he was paying attention to you. Your eyes here and there flickered up to Stokely, where she sat, reading her book with the biggest shit eating grin, nodding you on encouragingly. You know what? You enjoyed the proximity, even letting yourself lean in slightly closer when he pointed to a particular part in the text looking for clarifications. You could smell him, and for a jock, he smelt rather clean, the axe body spray ever so faint while mixing with the scent detergent on his clean and crisp clothes- No no, focus. You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to lean back and away from his personal bubble. Luckily or unluckily, the bell rang, signifying the end of first period. You saw Stokes stand up and mouth "English next" as she walked out of the library.
"Hey thanks, you really did me a solid." Stan nodded up at you as you began to gather your things.
"It was nothing, seriously." You smile at him for once, and he notices just how beautiful you look when you don't have a face like thunder, it made something in his chest soften.
"Well, since it's 'nothing', we should do this again. I could use all the help I can get." He shrugged, feigning nonchalance as he gathered his backpack, internally praying you'd say yes. Because if he was honest? Those thirty minutes with you were the easiest he's felt in a while. Your attentiveness and your patience made him want to try, to do better, because you weren't making him feel insecure for every stupid question, nor did you make him feel inadequate or incompetent. For once, someone made him feel supported.
"Can you do Friday? Say 6 PM?" Wow, go you, being ever so bold and completely proactive. He stared at you for a moment, blinking once, twice, three times before eagerly nodding.
"Yeah okay, sounds great- good. Sounds good." He gave you that goofy smile that you only ever saw from afar and directed at others.
~After school~
"And then I asked him to come over!" You buried your face into her back while you both sat on your bed, Stokely flipping through different teen magazines, for once taking up on a stereotypically "teenage girl" activity, looking for a cute outfit for you to wear on Friday, because in all honesty, the moment you both found out Delilah broke up with Stan after second period for dropping out of the rugby team, you gained a bit of confidence.
"Wow, so you really wanna get in his pants" Stokes snorted, tapping your leg and passing you an article.
"Stokes, you got it wrong. I might have a crush on him, but I don't wanna fuck him. I'm not like that and you know it." You huffed defensively as you took the magazine to admire the article and it's contents. A picture of a model wearing cute low rise camo pants, a brown halter top and chunky sandals.
"I was just joking. But be careful, don't give him the wrong idea, guys can be jerks. He could read your vulnerable passes as 'sexy' and 'seducing'." Stokes picked at her finger nails, feeling a little guilty that she painted you in a wrong light.
"Yeah, you're right, I know. Gosh, why are boys so emotionally immature?" You let out a laugh, resting your chin on her shoulder.
"Because they're boys." She simply countered, chuckling softly along with you, shaking her head.
And just like that, Friday rolled around. These past two days you didn't really approach Stan, finding yourself a little hesitant and reluctant to meet him. What if he takes your intentions the wrong way? Either distancing himself or worse, forcing himself onto you? God, don't think like that, he's not an utter dickhead. Too caught up in your thoughts while you scourged your locker, you didn't notice his presence until he tapped your shoulder, making your posture tense when you face him.
"We still on for tonight?" He asked you, tightening his grip on the straps of his backpack, biting nervously the inside of his cheek. He risked a chance to give you a once-over, admiring your cute outfit, low rise jeans, an MTV t-shirt and dirty converse. Since when did you look this good? Why hadn't he noticed? He quickly shook his head, attention returning to the sound of your voice once you repeated yourself.
"We're still on." You confirmed awkwardly shifting your weight.
"Cool. Coolcoolcool." He nodded again, confirming your address one last time before walking away, not without glancing back at you halfway down the hallway. Why did you feel so giddy? Why did you feel like skipping down the hallway? Jesus Christ, get a grip, you're tutoring him! Oh but he looked back at you again, his smile barely suppressed as he bit his bottom lip, finally turning the corner, away from sight.
You got home later on, quickly making sure your room was tidy-ish, no piles of clothes on your chair, your art supplies neatly stacked and organised in a corner, your school books in their designated spot on your shelf. You nodded to yourself, happy with the result. Your parents were off on vacation for the next two weeks, 're-evaluating' and 're-constructing' their relationship with a romantic getaway. So you didn't have to worry about letting a boy come over and study, though you couldn't stop yourself from imagining how it'd be like to have him in your bed, laying underneath you while you kissed his cute face silly. Blinking quickly, you forced yourself back to reality, taking a seat on your bed, evaluating the material you were planning to go over, leg bouncing nervously. You couldn't properly concentrate, you had to call Stokely, she always eased your nerves, even if it was just talking to her over the phone. You had an hour to go before 6, which you happily spent yapping to Stokes about all kinds of general and trivial shit, like the latest movies coming out, to debating the political themes in sci-fi movies to- You heard a knock at the door. You sprang up from your bed with panic, quickly interjecting, saying your hurried good-byes before dumping the call on Stokely, brushing your hair and trying not to trip down the stairs, opening the door with a false sense of calm. You were met by that damn cute smile of his as he stood there, looking clean and fresh, like he had a shower before coming here... Damn it, you should've showered and changed too! You felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you.
"Hi." You greeted awkwardly, trying to keep your eyes from roaming him head to toe.
"Hey." He chuckled just as awkwardly, lowering his gaze. After a beat you finally realise you have to let him in, opening the door to it's fullest, stepping aside. He walked in after he scraped his shoes on the outdoor mat.
"Cool place." He whistled lowly, admiring the plush and warm decor of your home, the posters of various movies and framed paintings adorning almost every wall, how your home felt cozy despite it being empty, leaving him with a positive feeling that eased his nerves.
"Wait till you see my room." You winced at how quickly you spoke before you thought, again. Though, you won a challenging expression from Stan, raising an eyebrow and his cute smile turning into a small smirk.
"Alright." Oh, okay, you were doing this. You walked up the flight of stairs and welcomed him into your room. To say your room was picturesque was an understatement. You had a collage you did a year back with various great artists, the theme chaotic yet still comprehensive. Your desk adorned with various figurines and memorabilia from trips, candles dotted around your room, a record player on a stool in one corner- next to it, a pile of vinyls that you've hand selected. Movie posters, stuffed animals lined against a wall your bed was against, the plush and colourful throw... He was seeing you in a new light. At school, initially he saw you as a clam. Someone with barely a personality or a strong character. He was so wrong. His mouth fell open as he read your room, studying it in great detail as he realised how much of a complex and intriguing person you seem, especially with the way you've expressed yourself with your artwork, with your choice in decoration, the way you've organised your little ecosystem. The air felt sacred to him, especially as he walked into your most vulnerable.
"You were right. Your room's cooler." He nodded in agreement, finding himself completely taken by you, now very excited to study and get tutored by you.
~a few hours in~
"So how many and what are the stages of a cells cycle?" You asked, sitting comfortably on your bed, cross-legged and staring at your notes.
"Uh- G1, S, G2 that's... Interphase? Yeah, interphase and then Mitosis which contains the- uh, the prophase, metaphase, anaphase and telophase. Right?" He was sitting on your chair, spinning himself slowly round and around, like he was manifesting his knowledgeable before pausing to look at you when you got too quiet, not correcting or agreeing with him. But then seeing you raise your head and nod with that beautiful smile of yours, he enthusiastically spun himself around on your chair still.
"You know, you're the first person to take me seriously. Thank you." Sincerity seeped into his voice, the gentleness making your heart squeeze just that little extra, especially since he was staring at you with those hazel puppy eyes of his.
"It was actually my pleasure, Stan. Really. It's nice to see someone care and work so hard for their future." You were being genuine. It was so refreshing to see someone like Stan, who could have an easy way into college, a scholarship because of his talent. But no, he wants to dedicate himself to be better, do better, work harder. It made you fall for him even more, and that much was obvious with the look in your eye, the way you fondly smiled at him. He stopped spinning and for a long moment, you both just stared at each other, both holding onto a breath neither realised you were holding. You were first to avert your gaze, the intensity actually getting to you, making your breath hitch. Then once more when he scooted closer to you, regaining your attention. He was still, so intently staring at your face, watching every slight shift and twitch. Tracing the curve of your mouth, the flutter of your lashes, intently mapping out every freckle. When your eyes flitted back to his, he scooted even closer now, leaving roughly a foot distance and that magnetic pull made you lean closer, gaze dropping to his lips. That emboldened him, his hand hesitantly pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear, his eyes unable to decide with they want to stare at your lips or into your eyes. That all changed the moment you gently grasped his wrist, pulling him closer, your heart threatening to race out of your chest when you locked your lips with his, both sets of eyes shutting and Stan shifted to sit next to you on your bed, free hand wrapping around your waist as his other hand slid down to cup your cheek. The kiss was clumsy but not unserious, it wasn't hot, but warm with an ache that only seemed to go away the moment your hand slid onto the back of his head, pulling him deeper. For a moment the room was silent, filled with the sound of gentle breaths and lips repeatedly meeting. You had to pull away first, the kiss so affectionate it made your head spin. So you opted for pressing your forehead against his, just staying there lingering in the taste of his lips, the warmth of his hands, the cold breath of his fanning your face.
"Okay, that felt surprisingly right." He whispered, grasp tightening around your waist. You let out a soft chuckle.
"Yes, yes it did." You agreed, pulling away to finally look him in the eye.
And that night... You forgot about Biology and genetic engineering and mitosis and whatever. You spent the rest of the night, laying on your bed, fingers interlocked while planning what your next step would be, if it was a step you took together.