Did the new hire come in yesterday? - Stella

Frankie looked at the text message and a shallow furrow appeared between his brows.

Yes

They were supposed to text Stella when they got to work. A quick ‘I’m here’ or some people, like Lora, liked to send her a selfie— Stella liked those quite a bit, she pulled Frankie aside some mornings to show him all the selfies people had sent her and insinuate Frankie should send her one as well, he’d always say no. He was good at being awkward, not funny.

Ezra must’ve forgotten to text her he’d have to remind him about that.

Frankie’s cheeks felt like they were about to split with how badly he wanted to smile. Yesterday was nice, they didn't do anything in particular but the company was amazing.

They’d been quieter after talking about the apron, Frankie’s teeth, and the day before yesterday. Frankie would take the initiative to teach Ezra how to do something when he seemed to reluctant to ask him how. Ezra fiddled around with the cash register like it was the first time he’d ever seen one but was also too stubborn to admit that he didn’t know how to— which was how he acted towards the sweeping, the mopping, and the washing machine.

Frankie figured that he was a bit nervous on his first shift. There was no way Stella would hire him with the skills Frankie had seen last night.

There was this odd fuzzy feeling in his chest. He normally looked forward to his bakery shifts if just a little bit, and now he looked forward to them even more.

He never thought the cafe shifts he took by himself were lonely until now.

Foster’s friends tended to be loud and friendly and talkative, like Colt, but Ezra was quiet. The type of quiet that was interlaced with small stifling speech, it made Frankie uncomfortable until it didn’t. Until Ezra started growing on him just as his words to Frankie were growing longer.

Ezra had to be the type of person who only talked to people that they were used to. Even when he slept over at Frankie’s house, he could hear Ezra’s voice as murmurs through his thin walls while Foster’s voice was loud and clear.

Frankie imagined a smiling, talkative Ezra. No, he liked the quiet one better.

I like your smile, Frankie. It’s nice.

The words bounced around in his head again and heat rushed to his cheeks- he wasn’t the kind to blush so no one would see it but Frankie could definitely feel it. It shouldn’t have meant much, it shouldn’t have been hard to forget. It was already the next day and practically the end of the day— it should’ve been gone.

His head just wouldn’t shut up about it.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and Frankie jumped a bit, he turned to find Emery's confused face.

“I’m jumpy,” Frankie explained.

“You are,” Emery said, smiling a bit as he handed Frankie something.

“It’s…” Frankie started.

His math homework.

“I just found it and wrote in it…by accident, and then I saw your name at the top,” Emery clarified.

Frankie was happy enough to hug him, he was looking for his math homework everywhere. Mr Cress didn’t show up last week Friday or this Monday, the next time Frankie saw him he’d need to give in his homework but he had no homework to even start on.

But now he had a fully completed piece.

“Thanks…” Frankie started.

“Yeah,” Emery replied before quickly putting his headphones back on his head.

Frankie stared at the homework for a bit, as weird as it was. The handwriting was nice and neat, resembling Frankie’s handwriting when he wasn’t pressed for time.

He never knew Emery’s handwriting looked so much like his.

Someone gasped.

Frankie was sitting between Emery and Libby as he did most of the time at lunch. The gasp came from the girl standing next to Finley.

Becca.

“Oh my god,” She started while snapping her fingers at Frankie, trying to put her finger on something, “I’m forgetting something…oh! We left you didn’t we?

“I didn't mean that, Frankie,”

“Fin, why didn’t you remind me? Did you apologise already?”

“Why do I have to remind you, and so what we left him? He’s not five,” Finley said, scrunching up his nose as he did. He was wearing an oversized shirt with shorts that fell just under the shirt. Frankie looked down at his own clothes, some baggy trousers he couldn’t remember washing and the only clean shirt he could find.

“He could’ve gotten kidnapped, you ass,” She said scoffing.

Finley shied away. “Why would anyone wanna kidnap him?”

“Look at him,” said Becca, pointing at Frankie’s face, “He’s got an adorable little face,”

Becca was wearing the exact same as Finley.

“Adorable?” Finley questioned, “We practically have the same face, never heard you call me adorable.”

Becca huffed and rolled her eyes, “I said you two looked similar not the same.”

“Close enough.”

“He’s cuter than you,” Becca said as she attempted to touch Frankie’s face.

Frankie watched the mild annoyance on Finley's face turn into displeasure as he tried his best to avert Becca’s hands. Finley did not look happy, not in the slightest.

“Let me touch your face, please,” Becca pleaded with him.

Frankie shook his head, “No…”

He had a severe baby face, people liked pinching his cheeks and touching his skin. Frankie didn’t, it was giving him acne.

“Come on, please,” She asked, before taking something from her back pocket, “Just a little, my hands are clean, I have hand sanitiser-”

“Just fuck off Becca,” Finley snapped.

The table went silent and even the tables around them quieted down.

Becca’s finger stopped mid-air as she turned to face Finley.

Finley blinked rapidly, averted eyes, and looked around as if he would find a solution to what he just did. He whispered something before taking his bag and walking off.

Becca’s face fell into confusion as she grabbed her things and ran after Finley.

An awkwardness loitered the air.

The people on their table looked just as confused as Frankie felt, they exchanged widened eyes and raised brows. Even Emery took his attention away from his flashcards and watched the two of them walk out of the cafeteria with light confusion on his face.

Delilah was midway through powdering her face when she turned to the rest of them, “What was that?” She asked.

Libby shook her head.

Emery shrugged his shoulders.

Lucy tied up her braids, and mumbled a ‘no idea’.

They all turned to Frankie, but he too had nothing to say.

***

Frankie waved Emery goodbye and then walked into his English classroom. The first thing he saw was Ezra by every coincidence— that was just where his eyes decided to land.

He went to his seat, dropping his bag on the floor when he sat down.

He wanted to talk to Ezra but then it occurred to Frankie that Ezra might not want to speak to him. They were friendly at the cafe but that didn’t mean they were friends outside of that.

Mr Moore fiddled with the remote for the projector. It was already 10 minutes into the class, and yet, nothing was on the board. He tried again, fingers pressing into different buttons and triggering different settings. Soon he sighed and picked up the phone on his desk to dial what Frankie presumed was the IT department.

The call ended quickly and he turned to the class.

“Project outlines to the front, or whatever you’ve done so far,” He said.

Frankie had been forgetting something all morning only for it to click now.

The project they were supposed to be doing— they hadn’t even talked about it yet.

He glanced over at Ezra, who didn’t look the slightest bit troubled.

Ezra didn’t really do assignments and school projects, Frankie had forgotten. The number of detentions he had gotten just this year and just in English was astounding, and it was almost commendable how willing he was to get all of those. In Easgrey High they stacked detentions, if you got 2 that day you got 1 hour, 4 that day you got 2 hours. Any more than 4 and you’d serve all of them on Saturday and any work that came with them.

It wasn’t like he was doing badly in school. From what Frankie remembered overhearing he had a pretty high average though ‘it’d be higher if you turned in your assignments’ he remembered a teacher saying.

One by one, people went up to Mr Moore’s desk and placed their projects down.

When no one else came up, Mr Moore picked the pile up and searched through them.

“Five are missing,” he said, “That’s a third of the class. Jenson...’JJ’, McCarthy, Denver, and Kowalski aren’t here today- and they all happen to be in pairs, interesting. That accounts for 2 projects, who are the other three?”

Frankie raised his hand, resigned.

Mr Moore looked over the class with a blank expression but furrowed his brows when his eyes fell on Frankie, he looked over to Ezra and nodded in realisation.

“You’ve got till next week, bring in the one for that week as well- it’s a double detention if not,” he said, before looking directly at Frankie, “Good luck getting him to do anything.”

Frankie almost scoffed. If Mr Moore knew he was going to end up doing this alone why did he even bother pairing him with Ezra?

When the end of the class came, Frankie’s thoughts were consumed by the project. How was he supposed to do this on his own? The project was about ‘Connections’ they were supposed to pick out things that each of them had in common with each other and write an essay based on it. This week was planning, the rest was essay work that Mr Moore would ‘mark’ — tick it a couple of times— and return.

This wasn’t something he could finish alone unless he just made things up about Ezra. He was tempted to take the double detention but they’d call your parents every time you go one and he didn’t want an earful from Cedric.

Frankie went through the doorway about to go left but felt someone tug him to the right.

It was Ezra.

“My place? Friday?” he said.

“Your place?” Frankie furrowed his brows.

“Yes.”

“For…what?”

Ezra blinked, “The project.”

“Oh,” Frankie started. “Oh.

“Yes…Yes. How do I get to your house?”

He should’ve asked where it was first. Frankie groaned inwardly, he couldn’t speak properly at all.

“I can drive,” Ezra said before knotting his brows. “I’ll drive you to my house.”

Frankie nodded with a smile. “Where do we meet?”

Friday was the only day they didn’t have English class so they couldn’t discuss it then.

“I’ll give you my number,” he said taking his phone out.

Frankie put Ezra’s number into his phone and called him for good measure. He waved him goodbye on instinct expecting confusion on his face or something else but Ezra waved back.