It became pretty obvious if you paid as much attention to him as Jamari did.

He wasn't alone like he had nobody around him, but he was exactly they type of person your eyes were supposed to slide right over to get to the main character, like an extra in a movie whose name was “Asian Guy #2.”

And if Jamari’s observations were correct, he did it on purpose.

He only ever wore black Nike t-shirts and creased-up black Dunks, but his black denim shorts came from some goth fashion brand that Jamari’s sister had pointed out, and he had three ear piercings in each ear that showed no signs of closing up.

Lucas always stood like he was trying to fade into the background, like he'd had to practice being relaxed. 

But for all that effort, Jamari still couldn't take his eyes off him.

No matter how little Jamari let slip, all his favorite snapshots of his tutor bounced around his brain like a PowerPoint built to make his cheeks go warm — from the way Lucas bit the inside of his cheek to concentrate (hot), to his proud smile when Jamari made an observation he thought was good (also hot), to Lucas’ deep, almost husky voice saying “Good job, Jamari” after every session (super hot).

And even when that reel wasn't playing over and over again, when Jamari was just walking through the hallways, somehow Lucas still managed to catch his eye.

Like now, where Jamari’s eyes had somehow wandered right onto Lucas leaning against his locker, his lips formed into a pout at his phone as he typed.

It was… cute.

Real cute.

“Jamari?” Jazaiah’s voice floated into his consciousness, breaking his apparent focus on Lucas. “Yo? Mari?”

Damn. No way he was watching Lucas that intently.

“Jamari, stop staring at him, man.” Apollo’s tired voice shook him fully out of his thoughts, and the concerned look on his friend's face made Jazaiah’s stomach twist. 

Apollo’s concern was mirrored by Jazaiah, his best friend looking at him like he was searching Jamari’s face for something that explained his behavior.

Fuck, Jamari didn't realize he was being that obvious about it.

“Are you failing?” Apollo lowered his voice slightly, but it didn't erase the gut-punch way he said it, as if it was a given for Jamari, that he could have someone work so hard to help him (he'd seen Lucas’ thick, wire-bound notebook, multi-colored tabs sticking out of its distended pages) and still manage to fail.

Even though his chest clenched with the spiral his thoughts had began to take, Apollo was wrong. Lucas had been sure to tell him he was actually getting better, and Ms Elliott had even said that there'd been a pretty significant improvement.

“No, no, no,” Jamari responded hurriedly, holding up a hand, “I’m just–”

Jazaiah cut him off with a roll of his eyes. “Mari, you always do this. Just fucking talk to the guy instead of angsting about whether he'll think you're annoying or not, man. Don't stare at him like you're some sort of creep.”

“Mm-hmm,” Apollo nodded, nailing Jamari with a look that reminded him of his mom. Apollo looked up, newly red hair shaking with the movement, sharing a look with Jazaiah.

Uh.

Oh.

“Jamari.” Jazaiah gripped his arms, his long fingers digging into Jamari’s biceps. “Just talk to him!”

Jamari was spun around before he could think to respond, and by the time he'd processed what was happening, he was too close to Lucas to do anything except shoot Jazaiah looks of betrayal from over his shoulder, as his ex-best friend marched him towards the one guy he really didn't want to talk to right now.

Not because Lucas was hard to talk to, or that he was particularly uninteresting, but because Jamari had no idea what to say.

Which means he was just running on fumes.

Lucas looked up at him at the moment Jazaiah chose to let him go, and now Jamari was staring at him up close, catching the subtle crease of his brow, the tiny scar on his cheek just under his eye, and the generally confused demeanor.

Man…. Fuck it.

“Jamari?” Lucas asked, and it kicked Jamari’s brain into overdrive.

“Hey, um,” Jamari began, bracing himself against the locker next to Lucas’s, “I have a scheduling issue?”

Lucas swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, and his eyes dropped from Jamari’s, his eyebrows furrowing like he was searching his brain. The expression lasted for a second before Lucas looked back up. “Okay. Something conflicting with our next session?”

“Yeah,” Jamari breathed, and it was something like a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes for a moment to readjust, then continued, clearing his throat. “I got a game Thursday, so we can't have a session. It got changed last minute.”

Jamari’s voice was weirdly quiet, almost a whisper, and he knew it was probably out of nervousness. He cringed internally. 

There was no way Lucas didn't think he was being weird.

Lucas, no matter what Jamari was thinking, nodded, taking in the information like he was writing it down the way he did when Jamari did something that intrigued him.

“Okay, alright,” Lucas said finally, shooting Jamari a rare smile. (Jamari saved it in his memory, no matter how small it was.) “Was that everything?”

There was something about Lucas looking up at him like this that made his heart race, even though Lucas wasn't particularly short at 5’11”, but the angle of it, the relative closeness of their faces… It made Jamari's cheeks hot.

He was lucky he was more than dark enough to hide any evidence of a blush.

“Um…” Jamari spoke before he could think the better of it. “It’d be cool if you came.”

Lucas’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Jamari cringed internally once again.

Fuck, what if Lucas didn't—

“...To your game?” Lucas’ mouth curved into a smile, and he shrugged. “Sure.”

“A’ight.”

Jamari couldn't stop the smile that stretched across his face, but he caught it before it became a full grown grin, letting the warmth spread through his body. “See you there, tutor.”

“See you there, Jamari.”

The door squeaked as Jamari walked into the 7/11, alerting the teenage cashier to his presence.

It was the graveyard shift — three in the morning, or thereabouts — and Jamari had rode down here on his bike because he needed to talk to someone who understood.

And the amount of times Angelo had heard him out was more than enough motivation for Jamari to choose this over anything else.

The store itself was quiet, as it should be at the crack of motherfuckin’ dawn, but just that little too quiet that had the hairs on Jamari's neck stood at attention. Aisles stood, well-lit, but empty, the way Jamari liked them.

“Hey, Jamari,” rang out through the store, accompanied by a drawn out exhale that was definitely vape smoke. It was a distinctly feminine voice, despite the rasp that was probably from a long time of smoking weed, each syllable drawn out like a drag from a blunt.

Bri.

“What’s good, Bri?” Jamari almost yells, just slightly overestimating his volume, from his spot in front of the chips.

This particular 7/11 was pretty spoiled for choice, with flavors of chips he'd never even considered, like three-cheese Pringles, and green Takis. But even then, he gravitated away from the Ruffles and Lays, to… ah.

“What’s good with you?” Bri covered the shift when Angelo wasn't there, and Jamari was pretty certain they updated each other on the various issues he had whenever he was there. Where Angelo was a good listener who validated his feelings, Bri was straightforward and blunt, perceptive in ways that made him feel like he was a patient on an operating table. Like now. “You’re getting hot Cheetos. Boy trouble?”

Jamari nodded quietly, before remembering Bri couldn't actually see him from her place behind the check-out desk, and instead saying, “Yeah. I think I just did somethin’ stupid.”

He emerged from the hygiene aisle, where he caught Bri’s sleepy eyes, unable to tell if it was from the fact that it was literally three in the morning or the vape in her hand that was definitely filled with weed. She was practically expressionless as he picked up two cans of root beer, placing them on her countertop. “Did you fuck the girl you've had a crush on for 10 years and are now haunted by the image of her in your bed and the fact that all you know that she knows about you is that you're really good in bed, and so now you wonder if you've tainted your chances with her because she might only want you for your pussy prowess?”

Jamari’s hand stilled midway through its journey to deposit the second root beer on the counter, shocked. ”...No?”

“Then whatever you did could not be that stupid.” Bri didn't even look at him as she scanned his items, practically snatching the rest of his stuff out of his hands as she spoke. “Have at it, bud.”

“...Did that happen to you?”

“Mm! This is about you. So? What did you do?”

“...Well. Uh. Yeah, Nothing like that. But,” Jamari’s mouth opened and closed, his mind a little blank at what Bri had dropped. He steadied himself. “I did invite him to my game, though.”

“Oh?” Bri said, flicking her eyes over to him and turning her mouth down in an exaggerated expression of impressed surprise. “You invited him to see you hot and sweaty and doing something you're really good at? How seductive.”

“...I guess?” Jamari sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “But now I’m worried it was too much, you know? Like, too obvious?”

Bri shook her head, her piercings jingling with the movement of her curls, putting down her scanner to pat him on the shoulder. “You’re just overthinking. It’s something you like doing, and you want him to participate. It's not something that could be seen as, just, solely romantic, you know? But if he's anything like me, he's probably hella flustered that you're asking him to engage with your interests, since it means you wanna be close to him.”

“You don't think it was too obvious?”

Bri completely stopped what she was doing, putting her scanner and the cat food down to give Jamari a flat, skeptical look. “Did you listen to me? No, Jamari! You're just being an idiot.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Bri rolled her eyes, tapping on the screen of the register. “That’ll be 14.38.”

Jamari pulled out his card, groaning. “This shit just keeps going up!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bri laughed as she packed his stuff up, shoving the bag in his chest once it was full. “Now, get outta here, bozo.”

His laugh rang through the store, accompanying the squeak of the door as he opened it to leave, propping the door with his foot so he could wave at her with his free hand. “Bye, Bri! Tell Angelo I said wassup!”

She just shook her head in response, waving back as she took a hit of her vape.

The door slammed shut behind him, and the cold air hit him like a truck’s first meeting with a baby deer, and Jamari shivered.

He sucked air in through his teeth at the feeling, but inside, his chest was warm with the way that you feel when you're understood. Bri was a little more brusque than Angelo was, but now, he thought of her explanation with the thought of Lucas in his head. Jamari imagined what his blush looked like — cuz he knew Lucas could — and if it was just his ears, or his cheeks and ears, or even his entire face and body like fucking Feigle. 

The idea of Lucas Choi, blushing, at something he did or said made him thank God that blushing was invented, a physical, uncontrollable manifestation of how you felt about someone. And then that thought made him thankful his couldn't really be seen, and that thought made him wonder how Lucas saw him.

Was he the idiot jock, like he'd thought Lucas would see him initially? Was he a charity case, someone Lucas just pitied? Did he think Jamari was interesting? 

Jamari thought about one of their sessions — the one where he'd asked Lucas whether he'd pull a Romeo and Juliet for his favorite animal — and remembered the look on his face when he’d said “blue whale.” It was the burst of happiness on his face before he said it, like he'd seen it in his head first, in all its majestic glory (Jamari had looked it up on the way home, and it was a cool animal). 

It was like bringing it up in conversation made him happy immediately, like the concept of the whale itself made him light up like the Times Square Christmas tree.

He stroked Gwen’s head, feeling her li’l ears twitch as she purred, letting the image of Lucas telling him his favorite animal play over and over again like his favorite part of a Michael Jackson song.

Even when he was back in his bed, two root beers poorer, with the sun only a few moments away from peeking over the horizon, Lucas was all he could think about — his eyes, his laugh (mostly silent, apart from a wheeze that made him laugh harder), his hair (always messy, sticking up in different directions that sometimes made him look like it was spikes), his face, his—

Damn.

Damn.

Jamari rolled over in his bed, realization fresh in his mind as the sun began to lighten the sky.

He might be a little more fucked than he originally thought.

Man, he kinda missed Bri.