AARON
Meanwhile, I’m still scrolling through Louis’s Facebook basically absorbing as much information I can find on him before class starts. At the same time, I’m thinking to myself, ‘Shit. Wow. This is a new low for me. I’m such a stalker. I’m a stalker, I’m a stalker, I’mastalkerI’mastalkerI’mastalker I’mastalker.’

Despite knowing and accepting that I’m stalking someone that I don’t really know in waking life, I’m scrolling through pictures of Louis from five years ago. He was in Gypsy when he went to summer camp. The look on his face tells me he wasn't enthused by it.

Wow, he went to the same summer camp for seven years.

“You okay?”

I look up and Erica’s sitting down at the desk in front of me. “What?”

She looks me over briefly, and then snatches my phone from me. “Oh, my God.” Erica looks back to me and puts her hand over her chest, while her other hand fanned my phone at her face, this grossly overemotional saddened look with pursed lips staring back at me. “Aaron, are you stalking someone? I’m so proud of you.”

I snatch the phone back from her. “I’m not stalking. I’m…” I try to think of a convincing alibi, but I know myself well enough, and she knows me well enough too, that trying to cover this is near to impossible. “…how do you know Louis?”

Erica, whose face has returned to something resembling a normal expression, shrugs. “He’s in my precalc class, but I don’t really know him that well.” She repositions herself to look at me the best she can from the desk. “You asked me to find someone who looked like him, so I did. But I don’t know why you’re asking about him now.”

She has a point. “I-I know, but – ” Mrs. Sandovsky comes in, her baby bump now showing, pushing the TV cart from the AV Department. Erica turns and faces forward.

“Okay, class. We’re going to finish the rest of the movie today, so get out your notes, and I will be right back.”

I tug on Erica’s shirt, and she leans back. “Look, I know this is totally out of left field, but I do kind of want to meet him.”

She turns back to me with this weird look in her eye. I interpret it as “diabolic matchmaking” and I’m about to snuff it out when she says, “I can ask him if he’s free for lunch today. Okay?” I nod. “Okay. Let’s find out about Louis.” Erica smiles and turns, getting her notes out of her backpack.

Mrs. Sandovsky returns, and class resumes.

Two periods later, I’m tapping my fingers against the edge of a cafeteria table, wondering if Erica would produce results. ‘I bet she wasn’t able to do anything. He might have class right now. Besides, it was just a dream. Wouldn’t it – ’

Louis comes stumbling into the cafeteria with Erica on his arm. She’s pulling him towards the table and then looks at me. “Aaron, this is Louis. He asked if he could join us for lunch.” She produces this fucking over exaggerated grin, all too pleased with herself. I have the urge to sass her, but I don’t. Erica pulls Louis down into a chair, and I’m staring at him.

‘Hi. I’m Aaron. I fucking stalked you today.’

His grey eyes are all over the, trying to figure out where to focus. Me, a stranger, Erica, someone he knows from class, or someone he recognizes from around us. He produces this nervous smile that’s struggling to either be hesitant or unrestricted. Louis is probably just trying to gauge us.

Finally, I collapse under the social anxiety and ask, “How’re you?”

Erica and Louis look at me. “Are you asking me, or him?” she asks.

I glare. “I don’t care how you feel. I talk to you every day. I was obviously asking him.” I physically point to Louis, who either seems taken aback by my comments or genuinely concerned at Erica’s mistreatment.

He briefly chuckles, but I can’t tell if it’s to lighten the mood or to alleviate his own distress. “I-I’m, I’m doing okay. How’re you?” he asks.

I find myself clenching my jaw and my fingers tapping on my legs. “So…Erica told me you need help with, with your set for the musical, right?”

I’m not watching their reactions because I’m suddenly more interested in the food in front of me, but I’m just not hungry. Someone tapped the table and I bring my gaze back to Louis and Erica, who are looking at me quite surprised. “What made you change your mind?” asks Erica. She’s side-eyeing Louis as she asks it.

I let out this elongated exhale, and purposefully test the waters of this theory. “You know, blackmail is a funny thing, right?”

Erica blinks, but isn’t fazed by the question. “So?”

I eye Louis. “Heard anything good about blackmail recently?” He shrugs, and slips a french fry into his mouth. “From friends…from dreams. Anything good?”

Louis’s brows furrow. “I…don’t know what you mean. ‘In dreams’?”

“Ever heard about a ‘Milkshake Incident’ from Erica?”

Erica reaches across the table to smack me in the arm. “Why would I tell him about that?”

“What’s the ‘Milkshake Incident’?” Louis asks.

“Huh.” I pull out my phone and type out a few things to remember for later. ‘A hypothesis in action.’ I look back up to Louis and smile, saying, “Sorry, I, uh, think I got the wrong idea about something. Something relating to you.”

“Oh,” he says, and looks down at his food. “It wasn’t bad, was it?”

I glance at Louis, who’s desperate for an answer. He has this pained look on his face that makes me think that he cares too much about what I think of him. I grin wearily and say, “I promise it wasn’t bad. I just…got some things mixed up. That’s all.”

Louis smiles; this warm, relieved smirk that shows off his crooked teeth, and it sends a shiver up my spine, because I know I’ve seen it before.

“Okay,” he whispers, his voice shaking. He goes back to eating.

Erica leans forward and asks, “Were you talking about the set design committee for the spring musical?”

My gaze moves to her, and I say, “No.”