With wide eyes, Newt stares at me. "No way. Did you hear what he just said?"

I turn around on my seat. "What?" I whisper, so our English teacher won't hear. "All he said was that his wife and kids went to—"

"Exactly!" He whisper-yells. "Since when does that guy have children? A wife? I thought he was bloody gay."

"Well, apparently you're not very good at sensing your fellow men."

"Are you seeing the way he's standing?" Newt motions towards our teacher, offended. "No way he has a wife—"

"Newton!" The teacher calls. He's a nice guy, but doesn't enjoy it when people talk through his subject. "The answer?"

"...to?"

"What is the purpose of a graphic in a functional or persuasive text?"

"Eh..." He rubs the back of his head. "To support the context?"

"Of what?"

"The text," he says unsurely.

"Very well. But please, keep your attention with the class. Ms. Lee, please don't turn your back to me, thank you."

Newt and I share one last glance, then focus, as commanded to, on the rest of the English class.

Once that's done, it's time for lunch. Not a lot has happened. I mean, I survived biology, economics, and art. Only got science left after our break.

Newt and I reunite in the hallway before we even enter the cafeteria. It's not exactly our favorite place, with (food) fights going on and all. Plus, it can take a while to find a proper place to sit.

Minho's group is like, forbidden territory. Newt and Minho might even be better friends than Newt and I are, but neither of us like Minho's other friends, who are loud and annoying. Compared to them, Minho's actually quiet. 

I used to sit with Thomas. Every. Single. Day. From kindergarten to a few months ago, when he and Teresa got together. They're not a cheesy school couple, but it does feel like we're interrupting something when we sit down at their table.

Newt leans closer to my ear. "What's it gonna be today?"

"I don't see Fry, nor Brenda," I whisper back.

Siggy Fry is the kindest boy I know. He loves to bake and cook— he has proven that many times. So instead of his first name, kids started using his last name, referring to a frypan. But Fry sounds a little less crazy, so most stick with that.

"Wait, Gally." I almost make a jump. "He's actually nice, did you know that?"

Newt pulls a face as he looks at Gally. He's stabbing a fork into an apple, the juice of it landing all over the table. "That," Newt sniffs, "is what you call a nice kid? I swear, in three seconds, he'll replace that apple with my body."

I take Newt's arm, forcing him with me. "No, he won't— hi, Gally. We, uh, we were wondering if you have some seats free for us."

"As there clearly aren't any other people who have taken them," Newt mutters. I force my shoe to stamp onto his. "Oh, bloody—" and a string of curses.

"Sorry," I apologize, both to Newt and Gally.

The boy, still frowning a bit at Newt's presence, makes a movement toward the free seats. Gladly, I sit down on one, then force Newt to sit, too.

Newt clears his throat. "So, uhm, where are your friends?"

Gally raises an eyebrow. "Trying out for the football team. Why?"

That's why I didn't see half of the boys I know in the cafeteria, right.

"Just asking. And you're not going to try out for the team..?"

Newt either just wants to be a prick, or he's genuinely trying to start a conversation.

"I'm already on the team," he replies.

"Of course." Newt shifts on his seat as he starts taking bites off his food. "Wait— Minho isn't trying out?"

"He already did. Only needed like a minute to convince them," Gally replies.

"What about Thomas?"

"Same story."

I turn around to look at the table he usually sits at. It's clear he just tried out for the team— sweat's still damping his forehead and his hair is a bit wet at the front. Plus, he's wearing that jersey. Our school has gray ones with light blue letters, and that's one of the best combinations I've seen so far.

"I'm going to congratulate him," I decide impulsively. I'm standing at his table before I know it. "You got in the team again, right?"

Proud, he nods. "Yeah."

"Congrats." I smile. "Go put on some deodorant, though."

"Will do. I no longer have any periods today, just wanted to catch up with Teresa." He motions at the girl beside him. She smiles at me, revealing the perfect teeth, and I smile back.

"Hi," she greets.

"Hey." I give a nod. "Eh, I'll go back to Newt and Gally, then—"

"Oh, no. Feel free to stay," Teresa says, her eyes on the chairs in front of her. "Viviette, right?"

"Yeah—"

"Wait, of course." She shakes her head at herself. "Thomas is telling stories about your childhood together all the time. They're adorable."

Some people would've been pissed at him for telling things like that, but I take it as a deep honor. Yet I raise an eyebrow at him. He just shrugs in reply.

"What exactly did he tell you?"

"Too much to remember. No way that you once sewed him a dress and he actually wore it to school, though."

Smiling at the memory, my shoulders rise. "Well, second grade things. But I can tell so much more embarrassing things."

Behind Teresa, Thomas is shaking his head and repeatedly makes a slicing gesture to his neck.

Perhaps if he hadn't done that, I wouldn't have told her everything I can come up with right now. From him simply pulling at a push door to walking into the girls' changing room, and then to him listening to music with headphones, the music blasting in his ears so loudly that he thought someone called his name. He screamed "YEAH?" and then it turned out no one actually called his name. The whole class was staring and then also heard what kind of music he played in sixth grade (weird music for sure).

Once lunch is over, Teresa and I are nearly crying from laughing. I can barely even explain the embarrassing things without getting interrupt by myself.

Thomas, in fact, shakes his bright red head at us and gets up when the bell rings through the school. Then he realizes he has to tie his shoes, I think, and bends down to the ground.

Teresa and continue talking in the meanwhile. We have five minutes to get to class and my science classroom is only ten seconds away from the cafeteria, so this won't cause any problems.

"Okay, I've really got to go now," Teresa eventually says, sighing. "It was really nice talking to you, Viviette."

"Just call me Vi or something," I respond. "Otherwise it's so long. And yeah— can't say anything about Thomas's taste."

Was that weird to say? No, right? I don't think so. It's a compliment and I didn't mean it weirdly so it must be—

She smiles widely. "Thanks. See you, then."

Thomas reappears just when I'm about to reply. "I'm going home. Bye, Tes." He gives her a quick kiss. "And bye, Sage."

"Wait!" I stop him, desperate. "I only have one more period and it's likely Minho won't be able to drive me home—"

"Nope. I'm not waiting fifty minutes just to give you a six minute drive. Walking is literally like twenty-five minutes!"

I make a beg sign with my hands. "Please! I don't want to walk. It's my biggest enemy ever—"

"You'll be in a car with me while I'm sweating. You really want that?"

"Better than walking home after a tiring school day with this enormous bag on my arm." I show him the bag for some extra convincing. "We literally live in the same street."

"Come on, Tom, just do it," Teresa interferes. I give her a grateful look before I turn back to the brunette.

"Well?"

"Fine, jeez. Just hurry up."

"Thanks!" I jump up from the chair, take one step to the right— and fall straight to the floor.

This cannot be happening.

Thomas starts laughing loud enough for a few people to look up as I attempt to get up, only to find out someone tied my shoelaces together.

I look up at that someone, and he continues laughing. "That's what you get for sharing my embarrassing moments. Or is this just a reason you hate walking so much?"

Once I've untied my shoes, I go for the hit, but he steps away right before I reach him. Then I'm just too embarrassed to continue doing this, and disappear into the science classroom.

"Ms. Lee," the teacher calls. "There you are. I have a form I'd like your brother to fill in as well as some questions so he can practice even more, seeing that he's not doing very well in science."

This teacher really likes Finn, I've noticed— he even still talks about Finn while he's no longer in this school. And I'm pretty sure he also likes me. So the poor man expected Minho to be the same like his super lovely siblings, but his wishes did not get fulfilled, unfortunately.

"I'll give it to him."

Only for him to throw it in the trash can, but okay.

"Thank you." The corners of his mouth twitch up a bit. Then the kind expression is gone and he sternly looks at the others. "Alright, class, listen up—"

☯︎︎

"My dad, your dad, Finn, Minho, and I are going to the sea before winter really hits," Thomas announces as we're driving through the town.

Outside, leaves have fallen to the ground and no new ones have grown on the trees. They're bare, prepared for snow to rest on them like a white blanket. The wind has been going crazy lately, too.

Yeah, cute fall outfits, but I don't really enjoy the weather as much.

"Wanna come with us?" Thomas requests.

"Absolutely not. It's ice cold."

I'm not very sportive, as you might've noticed.

"Ah, come on. We need to catch up some more," Thomas defends, removing one hand off the wheel so he can throw it in the air. "You don't have to go swimming. Can also just sit by."

"Thomas, you have a girlfriend. And—"

"Yeah, and you've been my best friend since forever. You officially met Teresa today and you guys liked each other. And she knows about our friendship. Trusts me enough to say she's alright with us hanging out."

"It still feels weird."

"Why? You don't trust yourself?"

"Ew, no. That was weird, Thomas."

"Well, then." He shrugs. "And we're with others. That already makes a big difference."

"Okay, true." I look down at my shoes. With the bottom of one of them, I try to wipe dirt off the top of the other one, but it only makes it dirtier.

"If you no longer want to hang out, that's fine, too," he then suddenly says.

"What? No, no—" A bit panicked, I sit up. I don't want our friendship gone. "That's not it. I'd like to hangout, really." A short pause. "And how dare you say 'that's fine'? You're supposed to try harder to keep our friendship up."

At that, he manages a laugh, and so do I. "I'll keep it in mind, Sage," he says. "Anyway, we're there."

Both of us step out of the car once it's parked in front of his house. The coldness of the air hits my bare legs, and I wrap my arms around myself to warm up. I'm wearing an outfit that I love and dislike at once. Casual denim shorts, a black top, and a blue, plaid button-down.

"So, see you Saturday at the sea?" He asks. "You'll survive a three minute walk, right?"

"I'll see."

He gives me one of those smiles in which his bottom lip disappears a bit— one of the awkward ones. "I gave you a ride, now I think you should go swimming with me and our families in return."

I roll my eyes, but can't hide my smile. "I said I'll see."

"I swear— I won't allow you to rot in your bed again! We won't repeat those kind of winters."

"Blah, blah." I start crossing the street. "Bye!"

"Not even a 'thank you'?"

"Thank you!" I yell. The wind takes my voice away and mirrors it against some houses. It fully dissolves when I slam the door shut and, as almost every day, am left in a peaceful silence.

Finn's has a job at a restaurant, Minho's school days on Tuesdays are already longer than mine, and especially if he gets detention, and my parents are at work. I got a few hours before everyone is home.

"Hi, Willow." I bend down to the gray cat, with black stripes running over his back here and there, and a white stomach. He starts purring the second I run my nails through his hairs.

"You still have some food left?" I peek at his little tray in the corner of the hallway. It's still filled from this morning, so that's fine. "At least you're not a disgusting eater like Mango."

Mango is Thomas's golden retriever. He got her when he was thirteen and mango was his favorite fruit at the moment, so... yeah. It's a lovely animal but eats like a damn beast, fast and messily.

He'll likely bring her to the sea this Saturday. Another good reason to go. I guess I don't have many reasons not to.

Eventually, I put Willow down and head to my room to fix up some of Minho's clothes, and do my best to stay motivated for school.