November 2036 — Freshman Chemistry Class
“Do you have a spare pen I could borrow?” Lenora asked the guy who sat behind her, after hiding her own perfectly fine pen in her pocket. Somehow it had taken her the last few weeks to decide on that as the method of approaching him for the first time, when she decided that pretending to check the time in order to look in his direction for a fleeting moment was not enough anymore.
It had only been the first few months of high school, and while Lenora was still unacquainted with most of the place, one thing she had grown familiar with was the feeling of excitement and giddiness when entering her chemistry class. That was because she knew it was another opportunity to get the attention of the cute boy she had developed a… likely-unrequited… crush on. While for almost two months Lenora had missed those opportunities, a random Wednesday in November was the day she decided to change that. Or at least try to.
As requested, a spare pen was handed to her by him, one with a planet on the end. “Cool pen,” She said as she took it and that was that. Lenora hadn’t planned any further than that, and so she had no choice but to turn back around. ‘Cool pen’? That was it? What a conversationalist, Lenora. ‘What’s your favourite planet?’ would have opened up a great discussion that would only rightfully end with ‘Let’s look at the stars together’. But, no. Upon trying to make friends in her first few weeks at Cerulean High, Lenora had become quite good at making conversation - and yet right here and now in front of him somehow she had become lost for words. This was different, though, this wasn’t making conversation with a friend this was making conversation with Cute Chemistry Guy. And she had just failed.
Chemistry usually came effortlessly to Lenora, but the first half of the lesson today had gone relatively slowly as she had been distracted by her frustration. That was until she finally looked up from her desk when the teacher said: “Okay, everyone, get into pairs for this next part,” Aha! Did the universe take pity on her sad efforts at approaching? “Hi,” She had turned around to him before her mind could catch up to impose doubt. “We should be pairs so I can give you back your pen at the end,” Lenora declared with enough confidence that the non-sensical almost made sense, her gaze staying on him in hopes he agreed. Somehow he didn’t question this, and Lenora turned her chair around to be sat facing him.
“I put the Law of Conservation Matter which is that there is no detectable change in the total quantity of matter present when matter converts from one type to another,” Lenora was reading a fourth answer to the questions that had been put on the board, focusing on the work to distract from the fact that she was actually sitting opposite him, where he could very much see her right now, and if she looked up from her book she would be able to see him too. “Or changes among solid, liquid or–” “What’s that?”
That was when Lenora finally looked up, and actually at him to see what he was referring to. “What?” She asked after her glance gave no answer to that. He gestured his pen, planet-themed like hers, towards her eyebrow. No. Above her eyebrow, at the now-healing cut that ran across half her left eyebrow. That would be the first time someone had asked her about it - mostly because she had covered it with a plaster or foundation, though also because her friendship group consisted of high-class girls who were more concerned with makeup and boys and clothes than each other. The point being, she hadn’t ever rehearsed an answer to where she got it from.
“Oh, I just- it’s nothing- I just bumped into the door,” Lenora explained, which wasn’t completely a lie. It was a door, that had been attempted to be slammed shut by her drunken mother who didn’t realise she was stood at the doorway to help her up to her bedroom. She had been in a day-drinking cycle with her at-the-time boyfriend, yet was continuously left to her own devices to get home. While she had profusely apologised to Lenora when she was sober, it failed to break her routine. “It looks like it hurt,” He told her with sympathy. It did. “It doesn’t anymore,” She brushed off, though holding onto the genuine concern that he had given her.
“Why are your pens so weird, Ricky?” A degrading tone of voice interrupted the indescribable ambiance that had come with the question of her injury. The owner of that voice being a fellow - or not-so-fellow - freshman who was laughing and picking up his pencil case full of the planet-themed pans. Lenora sat up, her brows furrowed, as a feeling of defensiveness loomed over her. “Only boring people have boring pens, Dylan,” She told him with her arms folded. “And no pen in the word will overcome your incapability to even spell ‘weird’.” As far as freshman insults go, this one proved to be effective as Dylan quickly sat back in his chair across the room.
“I’m Ricky, by the way,” He told her at the end of the lesson, as Lenora was turning her chair back around. “I know,” She said, to which she immediately shut her eyes because THAT’S NOT WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SAY, “I mean because Dylan said it ear-- I’m Lenora,” She said, giving up on explaining. “I know,” He replied with a slight laugh - to which she couldn’t tell if he was saying it just to make her feel better, or he actually did know. Either way, a smile crossed Lenora’s face in response. “And thank you, for earlier with Dylan,” He said, in reference to her minor outburst to him. “It’s okay,” She replied shortly - because it was. For some reason, the need to protect Ricky had come instinctively.
“See you around, Lenora,” Ricky said to her, which Lenora had to wait for him to turn away before she could let out the wave of excitement that those words had brought her.
Those feelings for Ricky that Lenora had as a freshman only grew as she did. It even had turned out that they weren’t unrequited. And it soon enough it wasn’t just a crush: he was her best friend, her love, her support when she eventually told more truth regarding her mother. Looking at him now as they stood in the hallway of her apartment, nothing for her had changed. But that included her need to protect him. And she needed to do that now, no matter what the painful costs were.
But Lenora hadn’t even done it yet. So to see Ricky already hurt and frustrated confused her slightly. What was he thinking right now? “You… I can’t- we can’t go in,” Lenora said quietly when he asked why she shut the door, looking down to resist the urge to blurt out that there’s someone in there that wants him dead for his relation to an Officer. “I can explain,” She said, barely-audible because… she actually can’t explain, really. But she had to say something. It was to either say something or cry right there.
That’s when Ricky asked if she’s cheating on him. Her risk of breaking down was disrupted by the absurdness of that question. Of course she hasn’t cheated. There is no one else in this world she would even consider in that way after seeing Ricky. It was him on the first day of freshman year, and it has been only him ever since. He thinks she cheated? Oh my god, he thinks she cheated. Which makes the closed door of the apartment look pretty confirming of that theory for him. “What? That’s not who’s–” in there. Then who is? How could she explain this? Lenora leaned back on her apartment door as she came to a realisation.
“Either get rid of him yourself, or I’ll find someone else to do it our way,”
She couldn’t explain it. She can’t explain it. Ricky thinks she cheated, and the only way Lenora can protect him is to keep him away. The only way to protect him is to allow him to think that. “I’m sorry,” Was all she could say. For Lenora, it was an apology for needing to cut him off, an apology for losing him, for not finding another way. For Ricky, it was a statement of admission.
@benitz786 Enrique Montoya