I was so fucking bored. It was the second Friday in February and my first day getting back into the swing of routine around seeing my psychiatrist after the summer holidays. 

On the second Friday of every month my dad took me to see my psychiatrist and then brought me into work with him because he didn’t want to miss work to drive me to school afterwards and I didn’t want to catch the bus, so it was a whole thing. I was downright refusing to take part in public transport after fucking it up twice and getting lost. They’d probably pressure me into it eventually, but for now I just skipped a day of school a month.

Which was fine. It wasn’t like I was missing anything important. I was pretty sure they hadn’t taught me a single thing I couldn’t do without since I learnt reading and writing and basic math. It felt like everything we were being taught now was shit maybe 5% of us would ever actually use, and probably then we could have done just as well with half an hour on Google. I doubted any of us would even remember most of this shit even if we did need it anyway.

But I couldn’t just drop out. Mostly because my parents would never let me, but also because I didn’t want to deal with feeling like even more of a useless piece of shit than I already did.

I wasn’t even actually bad at school. Or, like, I absolutely was in the same way I was bad at everything that involved interacting with people or doing things that were simple and easy for everyone else. But I got good grades and that was the only measure that seemed to matter to anyone.

Though to be fair, that was the only measure they really had. I sure as fuck wasn’t about to let anyone see me cry or talk about my feelings or whatever the fuck. People kept telling me that doing those things would help, but I still thought that was just one hell of a neurotypical assumption. Most of my problems were that interacting with people sucked, and you expect me to solve that by interacting with an additional person? Yeah, thanks, very helpful.

So anyway, by lunch time I was bored out of my mind. I’d already finished all my homework and I didn’t even have any assignments to work on this early in the year. There was nothing more awkward than sitting around with people you hardly knew when you had nothing to do. Well, okay, there were probably plenty of things more awkward than that but it was definitely up there. I’d even finished my book of Sudoku puzzles.

At least I had the little waiting area/reading nook to myself.

And then suddenly I didn’t because the worst thing had happened. Someone had approached me.

“Hey, Casper!”

It took me a few seconds to figure out how the fuck this dude knew my name, which was ridiculous because that hair.

Though to be fair he did have it half tied back, so it looked a bit different, plus I was a bit faceblind and tended to completely forget what people looked like pretty much immediately if I didn’t expect to see them again. I suppose that’s just more of an explanation of how my brain sucked rather than a justification, though.

“Jethro,” the guy said, which was good because I had forgotten his name. “We met at that Christmas party.”

“Oh, yeah. Hey.” My fingers automatically went to tangle in the necklace he’d given me, which had become a nervous habit of mine.

“Oh, hey, you’re still wearing the necklace I gave you!” Jethro said, his face lighting up. He was wearing eyeliner, which drew even my eye contact aversive ass to notice what pretty blue eyes he had. The fucker. “You know, when I was thinking about it later I wondered if maybe you just said you liked it to be polite, so I’m glad to see you actually wanted it. Wait, you’re not just still wearing it because you can’t get the clasp off, right?”

“I can, it just takes a while. I take it off to shower.” Which, fuck, I’d just basically admitted that was the only time I took it off.

“Oh, you can shower in it. All the beads are waterproof.”

“I don’t like anything getting in the way of my nakedness.”

“That would be a shame.” Jethro’s entire face scrunched up. “Sorry. That was a weird thing to say.”

Goddammit, now I felt all sweaty and too hot and my heart was beating too fast. Having a crush was basically just another form of anxiety.

“But, uh, yeah,” Jethro continued. “Let me know if you want me to make you anything else. I can make necklaces like that one in different colours and styles, or bracelets.” He held up his wrist to show off three different bracelets in different bright colours.

“Uh, okay. How much do you want for them?”

“Oh, I wasn’t going to charge them for you like some kind of jewelry dealer. Like…” He lowered his voice to a deep, husky tone. “Hey kid, want a necklace? First one’s free, but I’m gonna start charging once you’re hooked…”

“No, I thought you were just… an artist. Who it would be polite to pay for materials and labour.”

Jethro laughed. “Oh, yeah, I guess. I sell stuff on Etsy sometimes, but I don’t charge my friends for stuff.”

“We’re not really friends, though.”

“Oh. Yeah.” There was an awkward stretch of silence. “Hey, I’d better pop in and let my mum know I’m here. I have to be back at school before lunch is over. It was nice talking to you again, Casper.”

“Yeah.”

Ugh, now I was going to have to think about that conversation for at least the rest of the day. It wasn’t optional. Every time my mind wandered it would be right back there, replaying the whole thing for me to cringe at and unwillingly deconstruct.

It didn’t take many repeats for me to figure out where I’d fucked up.

We’re not really friends. I’d said that and then he’d immediately shut down and had somewhere else to be because that’s a fucking rude as shit thing to say to someone, Casper. I was so used to people not wanting to be friends with me that it hadn’t even occurred to me that telling someone we weren’t friends could come as any kind of disappointment.

I’d wanted him to leave me alone but not like this and, well, okay, maybe not really at all. At least on some level. Like simultaneously craving and wanting to kick a bad drug habit. I wanted him, of course I did, but I knew that path could only lead to disaster.

But more than anything I didn’t want to be mean. If there was even a small chance he might think back on this and feel bad and rejected and hurt, I didn’t want that. So I made him a paper crane.

And okay, sure, it was embarrassingly uninspired compared to his jewelry making, but it was a symbolic paper crane. I just didn’t want him to think I hated him when he’d been nothing but infuriatingly nice.

I found him in the break room, looking through the fridge. He was alone, which was somehow awkward despite being less awkward than any other alternative.

I froze up the second he turned to look at me. This was dumb, this was a mistake. But fuck it, this wasn’t for me. I’d had no illusions that this would go in any way I’d walk away from here feeling good about. But maybe he could.

“Here.” I held out the crane.

He took it from me and turned it over in his fingers, examining it with more care than the shitty thing warranted. “Did you make this?”

“Yeah. I just… wanted to make you something. And that’s all I can make, really.”

“Thank you.” Jethro was smiling as he carefully tucked the crane into the pocket of his uniform shirt. “So, you off school today?”

“Yeah, doctor’s appointment.” I preferred to be vague about the whole psychiatrist thing so that I didn’t make it any more blatantly obvious that I was different. Psychiatrists are a kind of doctor anyway so it wasn’t like it was a lie.

“Oh, cool.” Jethro made a face. “Or not cool, maybe? But anyway, you know. I’m glad I got to see you again. Do one of your parents work here?”

“My dad.”

“My mum started here recently. Maybe we’ll see each other around a bit?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Fuck, this conversation was one sided as hell. “Uh… do you come here often?”

What was that, Casper? What the actual fuck was that?

Jethro laughed liked I’d made a funny joke instead of just having a stupid mouth. “Yeah, a bit I guess? Maybe I’m just still riding high on the novelty of being old enough to be allowed off campus during lunch.”

“I wish my school let us do that. We live close enough that I could just go home.” But then of course I’d have to force myself to go back to school when lunch was over, and I wasn’t sure if I could deal with that more than once in one day.

“Ah, that sucks. I’m sorry for flaunting my beautiful privileges.”

You should be sorry for flaunting your beautiful face, more like. Did he really have to do things like wear eye makeup and take such good care of his hair? He’d be gorgeous regardless. Maybe if he put in just a bit less effort it would be easier to look at him without blatantly checking him out.

Jethro checked his phone and frowned. “I guess I’d better get going. Listen, can I get your number?”

“I don’t remember what it is.”

“Oh. That’s okay,” Jethro said, already taking a step back towards the door.

“You could give me yours instead.”

“Oh! Yeah, that works.” Jethro snatched a pen from the lunch table, looked around for another moment, then held his hand out towards mine. “Here.”

I let him take my hand and then I swear I became at least twice as gay as I previously was as he carefully wrote his number on the back of my hand. His handwriting was way nicer than mine as well. Of course.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go,” Jethro said. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess so.”