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The rest of the weekend past pretty uneventful and asides from my brother texting me at 4:17 am Sunday morning to pick him up from a party, I really didn’t do much. Like most Sunday evenings, I was finishing my procrastinated homework when my phone repeatedly vibrated. I checked to see a message from Quinn Clancy, maybe the dumbest person I had ever met. Which is a bit rude to say so in better terms, socially challenged. Mind you, he was great at predicting when a storm was coming and school would be cancelled. But his future weatherman career was not helping our group project.
Quinn C: HEY! i know it’s kind of last menute but could you share your write ups for our presntation? just so I have an idea y’know i promise i wont copy lol.
Me: Sure.
I knew this would happen working with Quinn. I quickly opened my docs and shared it with him because it was just easier than getting him to try and do some of his own work for once. I closed my laptop and started getting ready for tomorrow. School sucks.
I got up the next morning, jumped in the shower and got dressed before 7:00. I liked to get there early so I could go to the library and mentally prepare myself for social interaction. And sometimes Nik, or number three, often spent his mornings there. I quietly slipped out of the house unnoticed like most days and headed to school.
Glancing around for Nik, I found a table near the window looking out to the front doors of Quillston High School. It was an overall nice school in my opinion, smaller though, but not necessarily a bad small. There were only a few others at school this early, and today, Nikolas was not one of them. I watched the stream of kids walk up to the school as classes drew nearer. I wondered if Thomas would be in English today.
Turns out, he was. I walked in to find him sitting at a desk a few seats across from where I usually sat. His golden eyes slightly met mine but I pretended I didn’t notice—even though I definitely did. Honestly don’t I even really know if his eyes are golden but it’s more romantic if I say so. As more people came into the class I realized Thomas wasn’t the only one stealing glances my way. In fact, most of the class seemed to be staring at me once they had taken their eyes off Thomas. My anxiety levels skyrocketed. Is there still some jam on my face? Was this the hoodie with the stain? Had someone stole my identity, hacked my social media and posted porn? Probably not—hopefully not. It wasn’t till Thomas Elliot Levesque had sat right beside me that I was at my peak of anxiety.
“Hey Arthur,” he said in his smooth French accent, making it sound more like “eh Arter” which just made it better so it was fine.
Before I continue, Thomas Elliot Levesque has only spoken to me a handful of times, all of which I vividly remember. Last time we spoke it was three weeks ago when he plainly asked me what I was reading and withering through the excitement I began to tell him an entire thesis of “Challenger Deep” and he promptly wrapped up the conversation with an awkward “cool.” Mind you, I caught him reading that very book just last Friday.
“Hi Thomas” I managed to reply.
“Have you seen the list?” he calmly asked.
“Umm…what list?”
He pulled out his phone and brought up an email. What the fuck. It was a list. No, it was my list. At the very top it read; Number One: Arthur Linsly. I felt my stomach drop and my breath quicken.
“Do you uh……..know who sent that?” I asked trying desperately to throw any suspicion off me even though someone had to know.
“No one knows, it was from a weird email. Sent to the whole school too,” he paused before continuing, “Your eyes really are hazel” he said, looking at me as if for the first time.
As much as I wanted to comment on his golden or maybe not actually golden eyes I needed to see Quinn right away.
“Oh uh thanks,” I said, getting up and leaving the class with eyes following me. Even as I walked through the hall to Quinn’s locker people stopped and whispered. I felt like a practical joke. What if the whole school knows and I’m on my way to see the one who outed me. Quinn was talking with some brunette girl about something they had done on the weekend but I didn’t catch it, maybe for the best.
“Hey, uh Quinn about that thing I se..”
“Bro why didn’t you share the doc with me? Our project is gonna suck y’know” he interrupted.
“I did share it, last night.”
“Well I didn’t get anything, if you could send it by lunch then we won’t look dumb in front of the class,” he said, turning his attention back towards the brunette.
So I didn’t share it with Quinn. I ran to the bathroom, found an empty stall (the larger one that’s usually on the end because it’s better, don’t ask why) and pulled out my phone. My email slowly loaded and other than an email from Amazon telling me about 20% off women’s sneakers there was one sent email. I opened it up and sure enough, there was the list. But it hadn’t been sent to Quinn Clancy, It was sent to Quillston Public schools branch. My heart lurched out of my chest and I lowered my head in despair. All I had ever tried to do was stay off people’s radar. I enjoyed my quiet life, however lonely. I had things under control. What now?
Then I thought of something, clicking on the profile icon, I let it load in anticipation.
A2L942
I felt like I was literally floating and I was finally able to breathe without sounding like I was having an asthma attack. I remembered I had made the list with my other account, the one I use for those websites that ask for your email and then send you a million ads. It was there, in that larger stall at the end because it’s better because it’s by the walls and stuff, that I thanked God for making the least likely situation happen. Yes, I believe in God, I know you’re probably thinking why would a closeted guy believe in God? Well, I don’t know, I guess when you grow up praying for Santa to take you on his sleigh every Christmas and that your goldfish Phinely really is just sleeping it just stays with you.
I returned to English class with one minute to spare, unaware of the gazes that still followed me. Thomas was thankfully still sitting next to my usual spot. Before I could talk to him, Mr. Krone flew in the class and began writing something on the board. Of course, he writes so small everyone has to squint or stand up to read it if he doesn’t feel like saying it out loud—he usually doesn’t. I began to strain my eyes trying to see what looked like “cook airports” on the board when Thomas took out those glasses I like. We made eye contact and he just tapped his lense and grinned. That’s when it hit me, I was on the list. I had put myself at number one and now everyone in the school thought I was one of these guys. As funny as it had been, to the school I was on someone’s list and it seemed the everyone was suddenly aware I existed.
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