Whenever I feel like I’m drifting too far down memory lane, I count the freckles on Noah’s neck. One. Two. Three. It works surprisingly well. Then, I can return my focus to English for some reason.

Noah is doodling again today. It’s not the same pattern as last time, not as mesmerizing but it still catches my eye regularly, especially as my mind wanders off.

I am brought back to reality when Noah turns around and looks at me with his honey eyes. There is a question in them and I am not sure what it is. I feel like a deer caught in headlights, knowing that I am missing an important piece of contextual information in order to understand this social interaction. I feel like a complete idiot.

Noah’s eyes light up, and it’s like the sun is coming through the honey in his eyes. “You were miles away, weren’t you?” he asks, amused.

“Sort of, yeah.”

“Group work. Do you want to team up?”

“Sure!” Oh, thank God. I don’t have to go through the awkwardness of being the new kid who needs to beg for a work partner.

Lena walks up to my desk but Noah raises his hand to stop her mid-step. “Walk away, Purple. He’s mine.” I’ve heard him call her that a few times. There’s always a hint of tenderness in his voice when he says it, and it seems like it’s something just between the two of them.

“Excuse me, but he’s mine for four more days.”

“Three and a half, actually, and don’t use that as an excuse because you don’t want to work with one of the nerds.”

The entire thing is a bit surreal. Since they clearly share a bond, why aren’t they partnering up together? It might be because they feel sorry for me. But why would they (pretend) fight over me? The answer could be that they like me, that they accept me as one of their own, but I somehow can’t wrap my head around that. No one is that friendly.

Or maybe I didn’t know the right kind of people before.

Lena ends up working with Sara – I am finally able to link the name and the face – and Noah turns his chair around so we can work together.

“Just so you know, I’m counting on you,” he tells me. “I haven’t really listened to anything Mr. Ellis has been saying for a while. Three chapters at least.”

“I haven’t read the book,” I reply.

Noah’s right eyebrow rises and his smile widens as he asks me: “What are we going to do then?”

“Wing it?”

And we do. For twenty minutes, we are supposed to analyze a chapter I didn’t read and he didn’t pay attention to. Luckily, combining his recollection of the book and my ability to hammer out a three hundred word essay out of thin air, we manage to produce something that could pass for serious work.

Noah jokes that we should work together more often, and I tell him that I wouldn’t mind. The thing is, I really wouldn’t. He’s fun, witty, and happy; I need people like that. Like Noah and Lena. People who can make me forget that my anger towards the world for its lack of understanding of things I wasn’t even allowed to want in the first place.

After school, Lena and I return to the art room to keep working on our projects. When we’re done, I stay with her as she waits for her bus.

“You really don’t have to do that,” she murmurs. “You could already be home.”

“I don’t particularly want to be home,” I reply. Then I realize that it sounds like something dark is happening there, like my parents beat me or something. So, I add: “Nothing is really unpacked yet, we don’t have Internet, and I’m bored most of the time.”

“Why don’t you unpack if you’re bored? Kill two birds with one stone?”

“You sound like my mom. When you’re bored, doing homework or the dishes is not really the kind of activity you’re looking for.”

She laughs. “No, I know that. But unpacking is fun. You get to rediscover parts of your life.”

“I didn’t find a time capsule. I just have stuff that I put myself in these boxes a week ago. It’s hardly an archeological expedition.”

“But it could be!” Then suddenly, she looks super excited. “Oh! Could I come and unpack with you?”

I frown. “Why would you want to do that?”

Someone sits next to me on the bench. I turn around and Noah is there, a cigarette in his hand, his usual easy smile on his face. “Why would Purple want to do what?” he asks.

“Why are you still in school?” she counters. “Don’t tell me that you actually went to the library? Or to the homework club?” She is clearly making fun of him, but his smile doesn’t leave his face.

“Nope. Detention.”

“What for?” she asks casually, as if he gets detention a lot.

“Missed homework.”

“Again? Do you ever do any homework?”

“No,” he scoffs. “So… why would you want to do what?”

“Unpack Will’s boxes.”

“He has a point. Why would you want to do that?”

“Oh, come on! Aren’t you curious? Peaking in Will’s stuff, snooping in his life…” Lena chatters.

“Now she has a point.” He turns to me and winks.

The next thing I know, we have plans after school on Friday. They would come to my house and help me unpack stuff in my bedroom. I even swore that I wouldn’t unpack anything between now and then.

The first thought that crosses my mind is that I was right earlier. I hadn’t met the right people before in my life. These two make me feel like I belong.

The second – which is depressing in a way – is that it will reassure my parents to see that I made friends.

The third is a quick mental check of what is in those boxes. There can’t be anything too incriminating. My life is desperately uneventful.

Yesterday, I dreaded the thought of starting at this new school. Today, I look forward to the plans I made with friends. If I focus hard enough, I can manage to only see the good things about moving here. If I focus hard enough, I can believe that I’m happy.