When I finally made it home I got changed into a cotton pajama set, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and slipping into my hard bed. I try to think happy thoughts before I go to sleep to promote good dreams, but I slipped into the abyss before I could even get started on that.
I got up the next day and made my way into the school bus like any other day. As soon as I got off I made a point to find Remy in the hall before school, I didn't want to give Eleanor any opportunity or excuse to embarrass me.
"Hey, Remy." I called boldly enough for witnesses to hear. I wouldn't give Eleanor any reason to believe I wasn't following through with my promise.
"Hi, Elora." He blushed a deep pink again, but still managed to smile brightly. His cool demeanor being completely undermined by his skin coloring.
"Can I have your number?" I asked, this time slightly quieter than my previous greeting.
Remy's smile fell into a look of shock. He stood there staring at me for a solid minute. Justin, who was standing near us, smacked Remy on the back but he still didn't move.
"Hahahaha! You totally broke him! Hahahaha," Justin reached into Remy's pocket and pulled out his phone and looked at him, "Dude, you owe me big time!"
Justin then turned toward me, "Put your number in here and I'll put his into your phone for you, okay?"
"Sounds good," I blushed.
At this point I know my suspicions of him liking me are on point, and while I am not particularly interested in dating right now, getting to know him further might help me learn more about Gnawville. Besides, he's sweet enough that even if I can't get anymore info it won't be a total waste of time.
The fact that I asked Remy for his number must have made it's way around the school because when creative writing came around, Tiffany was on me like white on rice, "So what do you think of Remy? He's pretty cute isn't he? I think you two would be soooo cute together!"
I fidgeted with my fingers, unsure of how to answer. I liked Remy as a person, but as a boyfriend? I don't know.
"Remy's nice," I stuttered, knowing I was just saying something to fill the growing silence.
"I know right! He's totally a sweetie! Girls always talk about the standoffish guys or the tsundere guys, but I think sofies are the best! Hey, why are you picking at your fingers? Do they itch?" Tiffany grabbed my hand and started to examine the growing marks on my hand. I just couldn't help my nervous habit of picking.
"No, no. I'm okay," I pulled my hand back.
"Hold on, I have some lotion in my bag. Totes amazing at softening the skin up. It has ceramides to help the skin barrier too!" Tiffany began shuffling through her bag pulling out all sorts of random objects from footballs to a random singular tap shoe. The more she pulled, the more embarrassed I became as the person being associated with such strangeness.
"Oh. I'm good, but thank you," I dismissed.
I tried to stop picking at my fingers so Tiffany would drop it, but I just couldn't.
"Don't worry, just give it a try. I don't want you to pick your fingers til you bleed. It feels super amazing!" Tiffany finally found the bottle of lotion under the remains of a tape measure and a babydoll.
"I'm really okay," I turned, trying to face away from the pile of random stuff on Tiffany's desk.
I had a long night and I was about ready to snap. Thankfully, our teacher embodied her inner crossing-guard energy and ushered Tiffany back to her seat so we could get started on today's lesson on perspective. It's almost ironic how we are learning to write from angles, yet Tiffany is so unwilling to see things from my own.
BBRRIINNGG!
When the bell rang from lunch Tiffany stayed behind, "I'm so sorry I always run off for lunch and leave you behind. I get a bit hangry sometimes so I always try to rush off before it hits me, you know?"
She turned toward me, expecting a response.
"Yea," I mumbled out slowly, almost sarcastically.
"Are you sure your hands are good? I totally don't mind sharing some lotion with you?" My face flushed with Tiffany's most recent comment.
It seems like you don't mind sharing your thoughts either, Tiffany. You take even the tiniest response and roll with it. Do I have to tell you to shut up to get the memo? No, I shouldn't do that. I need to put on a nice face and say hello to everyone at the lunch table.
"Hey guys, what's up?" I gave a soft smile as I sat down, trying to mask my embarrassment.
Claire gave me a side hug and a chirp, Remy and Justin both flashed a smile and a hello, and Nolan gave me a short nod. Nolan. Nolan never speaks. He just nods and stares, yet everyone around him seems to understand what he's saying. Either that or they are pretending.
No. Their chemistry feels too real. I wonder what happened to Nolan? They say children who have experienced trauma have delays in the speech center of their brain, or are too scared to speak. I don't want to assume something terrible happened to him, or judge him, but something if definitely off about him. I myself have often been categorized as quiet, but his quiet is too quiet.
He feels vulnerable, yet confident and commanding. His quiet demeanor especially contrasts his tall, broad body. I don't know what was in his orange juice growing up, but the boy is built like the giant blue truck he drives to school.
Before I could think any further, Claire snapped me out of my thoughts, "Ooh, you have the hardback edition of this? Are you sure it's okay for me to borrow it?"
Claire held my comic like a newborn baby, eyeing it lovingly. We had been swapping comics every week at this point, but I had never shared any of my nicer ones with her until now. We were far enough into our exchange that I had developed a trust with her.
"Yeah, I've already read it a dozen times. Besides, it's not as though you are going to destroy it," I laughed to her.
"True, true," she whispered as she held the book up like it just couldn't wait to be king and stared.
"I'm so glad Claire has someone to talk to about all this stuff." Tiffany laughed.
"Me too! We should totally swap numbers, Elora!" Claire glared at Remy as she said this, but I ignored it. She isn't the jealous type, so I knew she was just being playful.
"YES!" Tiffany cheered out like she was at a sports game.
As we made quick action on our newfound idea, Remy stared; he looked almost constipated. Honestly speaking, he probably was with all the protein that fills up his lunch bag; your boy needs to eat an apple or something.
Justin, observing our interaction, looked at Nolan and then looked over at me. "What is that about anyway? That Mango,"
"MANGA!" Claire snapped.
"ManGAH about?" Justin sassed back.
"That one is actually a Manwha, but I suppose that isn't relevant at this point Mr. Mango." I retorted back, feeling unusually playful.
"MR. WHAT?" Justin gawked at me, seemingly surprised by my sudden entrance to the conversation.
"Mr. Mango, anyway, it's about bullying." I continued.
Remy chimed in, "Bullying. That sucks. What does the character do about the bullying stuff."
"The usual action Manwha stuffs. Tragic backstory that formulates his goal, training arch, and defeating the bully only to realize he has bigger fish to fry." I rambled, not realizing how much I was speaking until he replied.
"If all action Mantwa, or however you say it, are all the same, why do you read it?" Remy smirked charmingly.
Excuse him! He thinks he can woo me while insulting my taste in reading? Who says something like that anyway? My Manhwa are good, great, THE BEST! Insulting my comics. MY COMICS! Not today sir.
"Because they aren't the same. Maybe the structure but the underlying motives and plot are different. And because they are just good. I mean you could argue that every NBA game is the same too." I snapped back playfully. Next thing I knew I could hear boys across the cafeteria commenting and yelling out.
"HUAAHHHHHHH!"
"NONONONONO SHE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT!"
"SHE DID! SHE DID!"
"WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO!"
I turned my head around to try to figure out exactly what I was hearing. Remy and Justin, and the boys at the surrounding tables, were so appalled by my statement that I wasn't sure who was saying what anymore. Although I am surprised at how the surrounding tables seemed to be listening in enough to hear my initial statement.
Even stranger, Nolan seemed to give them a look and they all started calming down. His presence is powerful despite his refusal to speak. There certainly felt like some sort of unspoken social hierarchy was at play, but I have no way of knowing for sure. After some bantering, Remy decided to handle the situation himself, which only seemed right because he started it by insulting my comics.
Remy was quick to defend his interest in basketball, "You see, every NBA game is not the same. You have different teams, different players, and different strategies being played out. And,"
"You could say the same thing about action Manwha. Glad you understood my point so clearly." I held my head up high, and Remy's eyes went wide and his fists clenched. But then took a deep breath and then laughed. Not a sarcastic laugh, a deep hearty laugh that you would hear from an old man who just witnessed his offspring do something unbearably stupid. I must not have roasted him hard enough; I'll have to up my game.
Aside from our silly banter, I'm still wondering how Remy knew about the potential drug deals at the creek and about the power dynamics occurring within his friend group. I'd have to find a way to ask Remy about all of privately, but that shouldn't be too hard now that I have his number.