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Being alone isn't abnormal to me. If anything, I enjoy my time alone- even though that's how all my time seems to be spent. The past two years have been like this, and I've grown accustomed to it. If anything, it's weird for me to be around a bunch of people outside of school. I appreciate a calm and quiet setting and I find peace in being alone. Sure, deep down there is a part of me that yearns to be in one of those friend groups that hangs out every weekend, living "the life", but doesn't that get boring? Personally, I can't imagine enjoying a life where I just party every weekend. Although I've never been to one, I just know that it's not my scene. I'm not very outgoing and would just end up going home if I'm being honest. When I'm by myself, I don't have to worry about what others want to do. It's all up to me. And I like it that way. I kind of have to like it that way. I definitely could make more of an effort to insert myself into groups at school, but it doesn't really feel worth it, because in the end, all I want is to just be in my room, in the comfort of my own solitude, something I've been used to for a while now.In Willowbrook, a small town in Georiga, I'm seen as "odd". Here, everyone knows one another and it's almost impossible to not have many friends, so me being alone all the time really isn't normal. To be fair, I get it. I understand that how I live isn't how most teenagers do, but I'm content with my life. I mean, I used to have somewhat of a friend group when I was younger- Gally, Chuck, Ben, and Fry- so that counts as something, but it's pretty typical for friend groups to drift apart over time, and there are no hard feelings.When we were younger, almost every day we'd spend the afternoon and one of our houses for hours, just enjoying each other's company, but as we got older and our schedules became busier, we just couldn't find enough time for each other as often. We had stayed friends for a long time, but eventually, we all really had to put effort into the friend group to keep us together, and it just wasn't working.It was the beginning of our sophomore year when we had officially stopped being a friend group, as we hadn't really hung out much during the summer, and everyone seemed to find a group that they fit in with.Except for me.Turns out that making friends when you're eleven is a whole lot easier than when you're sixteen. When I moved to America when I was eleven, making friends had never been easier. Not only was I at that prime age where you could just ask someone, "Do you want to be friends?", but my English accent really helped me. It just made me interesting to kids, but now, people my age could care less about accents, because now it's all about who you know and what you know. Both things have never helped me.Now I'm in my junior year, which is filled with lunches at tables with no one but me and classes where I only ever make small talk to the people I'm sat by- and that's only when I really have to- like during group projects, which I hate, by the way. Assigned groups don't bother me much since I don't have to rely on chance, but when the opportunity arises for us to form our own groups and I'm left unchosen, it serves as a reminder of my constant solitude.I miss the times when I'd look forward to lunch every day with my friends, everyone always having something to say about the previous weekend or what had happened that school day so far. Our table would constantly erupt with laughter, provoking weird looks from people around us, but we never cared, and we always had a good time. It was typical for Frypan to be late to our table almost every day, because he'd spend his time talking to the lunch ladies while in line getting food, causing the people behind him to get annoyed, trying to hurry him up in line. Gally would always have some story to tell about the people at our school because he somehow knew everything about everyone. We would all just sit and listen to what everyone had to say, and it seems like they'd all found that same dynamic again in high school with different friend groups, and eating alone these past two years has really put in perspective how different my life is from theirs, and with so much time alone, I've had a lot of time to think of things I could've done differently, but now these cliques have been established, and I really feel that I've missed out. While I don't really care for the whole "teenage experience", part of me wonders what my life would be like if I actually lived a life, but again, I don't mind how I live my life, I just fear that I may be missing out on things that I don't even realize.And, while I do find peace in my own company, the persistent reminder of my solitude is something that weighs on me. Constantly."Newt, when are you going to get a girlfriend?"My dad asks me this question at least once a month, and I never really seem to have a good answer that he's looking for, and I usually just shrug and answer with a "dunno" which only provokes an eye roll from my dad every time. Growing up, and even now, girls haven't really caught my eye and the thought of relationships have never occupied much of my time. Although I yearn to be in one, a deep-rooted caution prevents me from pursuing it. Witnessing the dynamics my parents endured over the years instilled an inherent fear within me. What if I discover "the one" only to find ourselves constantly screaming and fighting? It all just feels too overwhelming, and not worth the risk.My dad is a very traditional man. A 'men don't show emotion' kind of man, which I guess I've never really cared about, but have never agreed with, but I could never let him know that. I've always really cared what people thought about me, and how my parents think of me is one of the most important things to me. While I do want that "teenage experience", I don't want to do anything that could alter my relationship with my parents- like drinking or smoking. I'm so afraid I could ruin everything with one wrong move. Even though they're my parents and would love me no matter what, I just can't take any chances of disappointing them. Especially because they're kind of all that I have.I'd like to say that my parents are perfect, but in reality, they're far from that. I grew up with a lot of fighting in my house, and although my parents worked through most of their issues, there's always been something missing from their marriage. Part of me thinks they only tried to make things better because of me, and I'm grateful they worked through their problems, but I hate to think that they only did it because they had to, you know? Also, I feel that I should mention that these problems didn't just stem from nothing. When I was young, we stayed in rental homes and apartments for a few years, due to my father's unemployment, which caused my mom to have to pick up double shifts constantly while my dad would stay home and drink. Screaming was a common occurrence, and eventually, I just got used to it.What a horrible thing for a kid to go through while growing up.As I grew up, my parents repaired their relationship a lot, and at this point, things are honestly pretty close to normal, but I'll always know what went on behind closed doors. Something I will never forget.Besides not having many friends outside of school- or inside of school, for that matter- and a somewhat unstable home life when it comes to my parents, my life is fairly normal.Every day, the routine of school remains unchanging, and strangely, I find comfort in its predictability. Yet, although it's familiar, I catch myself constantly counting down the minutes until I can escape and go home.I sit at my desk, picking at the already worn-out parts of my desk that desperately need to be replaced, tapping my foot against the floor, occasionally looking up at the clock, only to find that six minutes have passed since I last checked the time, hoping it would be closer to the class ending than it actually is. My teacher is talking about conic sections, which I honestly don't understand, only because I chose not to listen. I think if I really tried, I could excel in all my classes, but I don't have to motivation for that. I just can't focus in school, due to everything boring me out of my mind. Honestly, nothing- inside or outside of school- ever manages to captivate my attention and ignite a genuine spark of interest within me.That was until someone new walked into my class.As the classroom door swung open, a figure stepped inside, exuding an aura of captivating uniqueness. My gaze instinctively gravitated toward him, causing my curiosity to pique like never before. It wasn't just his physical appearance or attire that caught my eye; it was something intangible, an essence that set him apart from the rest.Maybe it's his somewhat unkempt, dark hair. Maybe it's his captivating dark brown eyes that caught my attention. Maybe it's his inviting smile that's plastered on his face. I can't put my finger on it, but there is something about this new kid that draws me in, and it's frustrating to not know what. I could just blame it on him being the new kid and leave it at that, but I feel that there is something more to him.I mean, how could someone be so happy to be in such an unfamiliar place? I sure as hell wasn't happy to be walking into this school for the first time. What is so different about this boy?Who is he?
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"A new student, Thomas, joined our class today. Thomas recently moved here from-" my teacher announced, his voice trailing off uncertainly, showing he didn't know where Thomas moved here from."Um, California," Thomas interjected, finishing my teacher's sentence for her.'Why would someone want to move from California to our small town in Georgia?', I wondered silently."Thomas, feel free to choose any available seat," my teacher instructed. There was an open seat right behind me, and I prayed he wouldn't choose it, given the two vacant seats in the back. But, as luck would have it, he conveniently sat down right behind me. Ordinarily, I wouldn't mind someone sitting there, but with Thomas being new, I hoped to make a decent impression. That's when all these worries and thoughts began to run through my mind like never before.What if the back of my head looks weird?What if I raise my hand, but my teacher doesn't call on me, leaving me awkwardly putting it down?What if I'm blocking his view?These thoughts flooded my mind, trivial as they were, and more confusing was why I cared. Making Thomas my friend wasn't a priority, but I didn't want to appear like a loser—though deep down, I knew I was one.At least he didn't know it yet.During lunchtime, as usual, I found myself sitting alone, eating random items I scavenged from my pantry before leaving for school. I refuse to eat the school-provided lunches but lack the energy to plan my own. Lost in thought about my evening plans—whether to watch television with my mom or indulge in a solitary movie session—Obviously, I really faced a tough choice.The loud chatter from the lunchroom clouded my thoughts. I look up to see Thomas standing in the middle of the lunchroom, with a look of confusion on his face. He almost looked lost? It is his first day, to be fair. Before I know it, Thomas makes direct eye contact with me. I quickly divert my attention to my lap, where my hands sit, fidgeting.A minute passes, and I assume he found a place to sit. I stay in my seat, thinking about my previous classes, and what homework I will have to work on later.My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a voice, "Could I sit here?"I blankly stared at the boy standing before me, pointing to the table I'm seated at—Thomas."Uhh," I stammered, confusion overtaking my ability to speak coherently. Does he not know anyone else? Is he choosing to sit here, or does he have no choice? He doesn't even know me."Oh! Um, actually, you know what? It's okay," Thomas responded, starting to walk away hurriedly, assuming I was making an excuse to avoid sitting with him."No!" I exclaimed, shaking my head, trying to backtrack, my voice louder than intended. "You can sit here. Sorry, I just wasn't expecting you, or anyone else for that matter," I hurriedly explained, hoping I hadn't scared him off."Really? Don't you sit with anyone else?" Thomas inquired.Nope.Perfect. Now he knew I had no friends."Um, I guess not," I replied, hoping my words didn't sound as lonely and depressing as they felt."Well, now you do!" He responded in a cheery tone, one that I was not expecting, surprised he still wanted to sit with me. Although, the only reason he's sitting with me right now is because I very well may be the only person he knows right now considering he's new and sits by me in one of my classes. Until he finds people he's actually friends with to sit with, I'm okay with him sitting here, and weirdly happy he's here.Not sure what to talk about, I ask him about his move to Georgia, which leads us to talk about a variety of topics like his life in California, and my moving from the UK to Georgia, and it feels like I've known him for longer than half a day, but I fear he may just be really friendly and I'm misreading this interaction. Does he want a friendship from this? Throughout our conversation, he maintains unwavering eye contact. It's unnerving, an unbroken gaze that makes me feel both uncomfortable and strangely captivated. Despite my reluctance, I find myself repeatedly looking away, even though I wish I didn't have to.His eyes bore into mine, intense and piercing, as if trying to uncover something hidden beneath the surface. The unyielding eye contact sends a shiver down my spine, my instincts urging me to break away. I try to maintain composure, but the weight of his gaze leaves me feeling vulnerable and exposed.Internally, I wrestle with conflicting emotions. On one hand, I'm drawn to his unwavering attention, appreciating the rare intensity of our interaction. On the other hand, the intensity is overwhelming, and I long for the moment he looks away. It's a peculiar mix of fascination and discomfort, a push-and-pull between my desire to hold his gaze and my instinctual urge to look away.Is he just like this, or actually interested in what I have to say to him? I can't imagine it's the latter, and maybe he's just pretending to be super engaged in this conversation, secretly thinking of how to get out of it, but for now, I silently pray that he possesses a genuine curiosity in what I'm sharing with him.A complete reversal has swept through my thoughts since earlier when I had no interest in getting to know Thomas, let alone befriend him, but now, I find myself reluctant to end our conversation, desiring to continue talking with him for as long as possible. The connection we're building, however unexpected, has sparked a newfound interest that I didn't anticipate.With every passing moment, my curiosity deepens, craving to know more about Thomas, his experiences, and his perspective on the world. The barriers I initially put up to keep him at a distance are crumbling, replaced by a growing desire to explore the possibilities of friendship.Of course, just as our connection starts, the school bell rings, signaling the end of our time together. Fourth period awaits, dragging me away from the exhilarating realm of possibilities that emerged in our conversation.Reluctantly, I tear myself away, promising to pick up where we left off later, hoping that our newfound connection will withstand the demands of daily life.I start to walk away before I'm stopped."Wait, I don't even know your name," Thomas states.I feel like an idiot, I didn't even tell him my name. Obviously, I knew his, but why did I never tell him mine? That's like 'Meeting New People 101'."Newt" I reply to him."Newt," he restates. "I like that name," Thomas says, smiling and then walking away.I can feel my face turning red and getting hot. As I watch him stroll down the hallway, heading to whatever class he has next.Why am I reacting this way?
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The rays of the sun shone through the blinds on my window, waking me up before my alarm had the chance to. I got up, stretching my arms then checking my phone, seeing no notifications awaiting me as usual. Although it was a Sunday, and I had no reason to not sleep in, I feel as if I'm wasting the day if I sleep away half of it, so I've always made an effort to wake up somewhat early on weekends, even though I usually have no plans set.It had been two days now since I met Thomas.How odd for someone's first day at a new school to be on a Friday.Today, devoid of any concrete plans, I decided to venture to the local bookstore, a haven of infinite stories that never failed to ignite my imagination. It stood within walking distance, affording me the luxury of time to wander and ponder the endless realms of literature. I never sought a specific book during these visits, preferring to discover what was waiting for me on those bookshelves when I got there.Stepping through the entrance, I inhaled the familiar scent of aged paper and ink, feeling a surge of anticipation course through my veins. The world of possibilities awaited me, a million of untold tales calling for me. Little did I know that fate had prepared an unexpected twist to this leisurely outing.Barely ten minutes into my time in the bookstore, a book tumbled from a shelf, crashing into my shoulder. Pain radiated through my body, overwhelming my senses for a second. Before I could fully grasp the situation, a voice I recognized all too well sliced through the air, laced with worry."I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"Gathering my wits, I rose from my crouched position, my gaze descending to the shelf from which the book had fallen from. And there, our eyes locked in an instant of recognition, stood Thomas."Oh, hey," I began, momentarily forgetting the twinge of pain. "No worries, accidents happen." I chuckled softly, hoping to ease any distress he might feel, even though the book had left me slightly sore. Glancing down at the book that had fallen upon me moments before, I read its title—The Secret Lives of Colour.Returning my focus to Thomas, I couldn't help but ask, "Are you an artist or something? Or did you accidentally drop a book about art on me?"He smiled and replied, "Actually, yeah. One of the reasons I was thrilled about moving here was the abundance of inspiration I hoped to find. New landscapes and scenes to capture on canvas are like gifts to me. You can never truly appreciate the beauty of a captivating landscape enough."His words intrigued me. "You didn't strike me as an artist, though," I admitted, realizing the potential unintended rudeness of my remark. "Not in a negative way, of course," I quickly added, hoping he understood my meaning."Yeah, that's a common misconception," Thomas responded, a warm smile playing on his lips.His smile captivated me, and our intense eye contact felt almost unnerving yet undeniably fascinating. I resisted the urge to look away, instead, studying the contours of his face—the crinkling of his eyes when he smiled, the faint scattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, details that only revealed themselves through careful observation. I silently prayed that he couldn't hear the thoughts racing through my head, seeing as they were so loud in my mind.As I stood there, caught in the intensity of our gaze, I couldn't help but feel an inexplicable connection to Thomas. There was something about him that piqued my curiosity, something that made me want to understand him better.With a hint of surprise, I said, "Honestly, I really didn't see you as someone who would have such an artistic surprise, but I guess I was wrong." I say with a small laugh following after my words.Thomas chuckled, a warm sound that resonated with his friendly nature. "Yeah, I guess I don't fit the stereotypical artist mold. But I've always found inspiration in the world around me." I guess I really don't know anything about Thomas. I never expected him to be someone who thought this way, if I'm being honest.His response intrigued me, and I found myself wanting to learn more about his perspective. "It's fascinating how you see the world through your creative lens. I'd love to see some of your artwork, if you'd be fine with showing me." I say, wanting to cringe at what I said, hoping he wouldn't think I'm weird for being so interested in his art.Thomas's eyes lit up, a mix of enthusiasm and surprise. "Sure, I'd be happy to show you," he says, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off my chest, and I let out a small sigh of relief. "and we can grab some coffee if you'd like," he suggests.How cliche. Two people unexpectedly meet in a local bookstore and they get coffee to get to know one another better. Except this is platonic- right?Nevertheless, the idea of spending more time with Thomas appealed to me, and I nodded in agreement. "That sounds great. Lead the way."We left the bookstore behind and walked towards a nearby coffee shop, engaging in casual conversation along the way. Thomas shared his artistic vision and the inspiration he found in capturing moments on canvas.As I listened, I couldn't help but feel drawn to him in an unexplainable way. There was something about his genuine passion and kind nature that resonated with me. I found myself wanting to know more, to unravel the mystery behind this newfound connection.But as the afternoon unfolded and we continued our conversation, I couldn't ignore the inner turmoil brewing within me. I felt an unexplained confusion, unable to pinpoint the exact source of these unfamiliar feelings. I almost felt anxious around him, and I didn't understand why.This doesn't make sense.What is it about this boy that is so intriguing, drawing me in with every word?Eventually, we had to part ways and go home, despite the fact that I did not want to, but felt comfort in the fact that I would see him tomorrow at school, that is if he chooses to sit with me again.Maybe I finally have something to look forward to now.
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Ever since my encounter with Thomas at the bookstore and coffee shop, I find myself unable to shake off thoughts of him. It's unusual for me to have many friends, so this new connection feels different and more significant than any other friendship.At the same time, there's a part of me that feels somewhat pathetic. I realize that receiving a little bit of affection shouldn't make me obsessed, but it seems that Thomas has had that effect on me. Deep down, I suspect he views me as nothing more than an acquaintance. While I wouldn't be surprised by that, I can't deny it would be disappointing. Strangely enough, I care a great deal about his opinion of me. As a result, I've started putting more effort into my appearance at school. Not because I'm trying to impress him specifically, but if I can at least look presentable, maybe he'll want to continue being friends. Thomas has awakened a longing for friendship within me that I've never really experienced before, and I don’t know how I feel about that.What if I end up hurt?I always told myself that falling in love is something I never wanted. However, what if friendship carries the same risks? What will happen if I invest all my energy in Thomas, only to find out that he doesn't feel the same way? I can't afford to let myself go through that pain. But at the same time, I can't seem to stay away from Thomas. Literally, I see him every day, so even if I wanted some distance, it wouldn't be possible.—"So, do you even understand what we're doing in class?" Thomas asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. He softly chuckled as if finding the situation mildly comical.It was lunchtime now, and our conversations with Thomas often revolved around the physics class we shared. I had a decent grasp of the subject, but not enough to confidently explain it to Thomas."Um, kind of, but not really," I replied, realizing my response didn't make much sense. This caused Thomas to chuckle even more, his laughter infectious."Why don't we study together sometime?" Thomas suggested, his eyes meeting mine with a spark of excitement, as if he had just stumbled upon a brilliant idea. In that moment, I coudve sworn my heart dropped to the floor for a split second, my heart skipping a beat and a wave of nervousness washed over me.I couldn't help but wonder-Why did his suggestion make me so nervous?"Yeah, for sure," I replied, trying to sound confident about the idea of studying together, even though deep down, I was terrified. This time, it wouldn't be a mere coincidence that we saw each other, and it wouldn't be solely because we had to attend the same class. This time, we would deliberately spend time together."Great! It's a plan," Thomas said, flashing me a smile.Was he genuinely excited to hang out with me, or was he just using me as a way to improve his own grasp of physics? After all, I had admitted that I wasn't great at the subject. So, if he knew this, then he must have some interest in spending time with me, right? It was a confusing situation, but it did present me an opportunity to get to know Thomas better and work on improving my grades—something I had been needing to do for a while now.—After we agreed to study at my house on Tuesday afternoon at Six, I shared my address with Thomas. He explained that his own home would likely be too chaotic and noisy to concentrate, thanks to his lively younger sisters, Penny and Sofia, aged 4 and 7. Anticipating our study session, I diligently tidied up my room, assuming it would be our designated study area. However, a nagging thought crept into my mind—would Thomas judge me based on the posters hanging on my walls? They mostly depicted classic movies and a range of shows that I thoroughly enjoyed. Maybe, maybe not. He’s an artist himself, so maybe he appreciates other sources of media the way I do.5:47Thirteen minutes remained. Thirteen minutes until Thomas would catch a glimpse of the true me, stepping into my room—a space that had been kept hidden from all but my parents over the past two years. The nerves coursing through me hardly captured the magnitude of my emotions. Thomas' opinion meant a lot to me, and the way I conducted myself during this study session could determine the fate of our future friendship.With each passing second, anticipation intensified, wrapping around me like a tight coil. These next moments held the power to shape our connection and reveal a side of me that I had carefully shielded. It was a vulnerable juncture, where the walls I had erected would be exposed, either inviting Thomas closer or pushing him away.The minutes ticked away as I eagerly counted down to 6:00. The moment was imminent, and I could sense the weight of anticipation hanging in the air. Any second now, he would arrive. Any second now.And then, it happened.Ding!The sound of the doorbell reverberated through the house, sending a jolt of excitement and nervousness coursing through my veins. I wasted no time; I hurried downstairs, my heart pounding in my chest, reaching a crescendo with each step. As I approached the door, my hand trembling slightly, I opened it.There stood Thomas, his presence filling the doorway. Our eyes met in an instant, a magnetic connection forged between us."Hey," he greeted, his voice warm with a genuine smile.
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"Come on in," I replied, my voice consisting of a mix of nerves and excitement. Opening the door to my own house for him felt surreal but odd, something I never could have anticipated when we first met.After exchanging a brief greeting with my parents, Thomas turned to me and asked, "So, your room?"I hesitated, feeling a pang of vulnerability at the thought of showing him such a personal space. Despite my apprehension, I lead the way. "Right this way," I said, motioning towards the stairs.As we walked up the stairs, a realization struck me—we hadn't really engaged in conversation. Desperate to break the silence, I resorted to discussing the reason Thomas had come over, even if it seemed boring. "So, um," I began, my words stumbling slightly, "we can review what we learned in our last class if you want. I mean, I'm not sure how much you understood, but I think I kind of get it, so if you need help with it I can help.""Okay, good because I really don't get it," Thomas replies with a light chuckle. I smile, happy that he took me up on my offer to help. Although this is the reason Thomas is here, part of me hopes this isn't all we do. I hope we can spend some time together to get to know each other better. Even though I feel like I know Thomas pretty well, I just feel like there is something about him that I'm missing, like there's something deeper to understand about this boy that I haven't quite yet figured out.I will figure it out.~~~After studying and working on physics with Thomas for about an hour, a loud noise breaks the silence, causing me to whip my head around. I find Thomas shutting his textbook with an audible sigh."You good?" I ask, a hint of amusement in my voice, but also I found part of me genuinely concerned about his well-being."Yeah, I'm fine," he chuckles. "I just can't take any more of learning about the conservation of energy. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but this is possibly the most boring subject ever," Thomas's remark offers a glimpse into his personality. While I understand the subject matter, I can't help but acknowledge his point. Physics can be incredibly dull unless you're a genius or aspiring to be an astronomer or scientist."but at least it's more fun to learn with you," Thomas says, finishing his sentence.His words send a surge of excitement through me, causing my heart rate to quicken. Caught off guard, I find myself blushing in response. I glance up at Thomas and discover him looking directly at me. Our eyes meet, and I notice him quickly turning away, attempting to conceal the fact that he was gazing at me.Am I making him nervous? Why would I make him nervous?I suddenly realize that we've been sitting in silence for what feels like an eternity, though it's only been a minute or so. Just as I'm about to break the silence, Thomas unexpectedly moves closer to me. My heart races even faster, and I swear he can hear its frantic beating. I start to turn to look at him, and as if he senses my intention, he beats me to it and turns to look at me. We find ourselves sitting on my bed, mere inches apart, locked in a gaze. I can't help but let out a small laugh, acknowledging the slight awkwardness of the situation, which causes Thomas to smile.It's hard not to be captivated by the beauty of his smile. Breaking eye contact for a moment, I glance around my room, searching for a topic of conversation to dispel the uncomfortable silence. I look back at Thomas, who continues to meet my gaze, not trying to hide it this time."You know," he starts, his voice filled with sincerity, "I think we're going to be really good friends.""You think?" I respond, a hint of confusion in my voice, though not displeased by his words."Yeah, I genuinely like you, and you're different from everyone else," he states."Different? Isn't it usually considered a bad thing not to be like everyone else?" I ask, a tinge of uncertainty coloring my words."I mean that you're authentic. Most people put on a facade for others they know. It's rare to find someone who embraces their true self, without hiding behind something else. I can just sense that" he gestures towards me, "this is the real you, you know? You're not pretending to be someone you're not.""That was kind of deep, but thank you," I respond, feeling a sense of vulnerability as I open up further. Our unwavering eye contact both unnerves and excites me, but I gather the courage to maintain it. "Not having many friends has taught me to promise myself that if I ever met someone, they would have to accept the real me, no hiding.""That's smart, Newt," Thomas says, his voice filled with sincerity. His use of my name sends a wave of warmth and a tinge of shyness through me. He continues, placing his hand gently on my leg, "Just know... I like you for who you are. Just know that."As his words hang in the air, the weight of their meaning settles upon me. It's as if the world around us fades, leaving only our connection in this moment.
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We get back to our work eventually, after talking a bit more, but something is different. Something about what Thomas said to me causes it to linger in my thoughts, constantly overshadowing what I probably should be focusing on, but yet all I seem to be thinking is Thomas.Only Thomas.I've never felt like this about a friend before. I mean, he's just my friend. So, why am I so weird about it? Maybe this is all just too new to me. That could explain it. I mean, I've never experienced a friendship like this before, where I'm told that I'm valued in some way. I'm so used to being in my own world, used to being on my own, that maybe now with Thomas here, I am just not used to this kind of life now.I get lost in my own thoughts and suddenly I realize Thomas is still here, and I'm silent. I wonder what he’s thinking. I assume he’s preoccupied with thinking about the topics we were studying, and I’m almost positive he has no clue that all I’m thinking about is him.He breaks the silence.“Newt?” he asks, his tone a bit worrisome.“Uh, yeah?” I respond, shaking those thoughts out of my head, trying to snap back into the moment.“Feels like I lost you there for a second. You good?” He acknowledges the silence.“Yeah, sorry, just thinking about the other homework I've got to get done later” I say, completely lying, hoping he doesn't see right through me.“Oh, all good” He chuckles.Everything is back to normal, not that it was ever not normal for him.“I should probably get your phone number. I mean, I didn't mind just jotting down your address so I could get here but in the future it'll probably just be easier to text you to make plans.” Thomas suggests.Oh my god.He wants to hangout again in the future? That's what he's suggesting right? I'm sure he's only asking so we can study together again but still. I realize I haven't responded.“Yeah for sure, good idea” I reply.“Here, type your number in.” He hands me his phone.I start typing my information in, hoping that he doesn't only message me for study purposes. I really do want to get to know him better.It's normal to feel this way about a friend right?I hand the phone back to him, trying to appear as casual as possible, because why wouldn't this be casual? For some weird reason my heart is racing, and I can't help but wonder if he feels the way I feel. Does he get excited thinking about hanging out with me, or am I just a second thought to him? It kills me that I don't know.I glance at him, studying his face, looking for any clues that might reveal how he's feeling, but he just looks at his phone, slightly smiling as he saves my number, and for a moment, I feel a little ridiculous thinking he could feel the way I feel about our friendship.Because that’s all it will be. A friendship.“Thanks, Newt,” he says, putting his phone away. His smile is genuine, I can tell, and I don't know why but I can feel my chest tighten when his smile is directed at me. My attention directed towards his smile is broken when he speaks.“Maybe we can go get food sometime, or just do something other than studying.”My breath catches in my throat. Is he reading my mind? I could easily read way too much into this, and part of me already is. My mind is racing, but I stop myself.“Sure, that would be fun.” I reply, hoping my voice doesn't show the nervousness I’m feeling.~~~We finish up the rest of our work, and when it's time for him to leave, I walk him to the door. As he walks out he turns his back to me, and there's something in the way he's looking at me that makes my heart skip a beat.“See you soon, Newt.” He says softly.I close the door behind him and lean against it, my thoughts seemingly going in a million different directions. I don't want to get carried away with my feelings, whatever they may be towards him, but there's a part of me that can't help but hope he feels what I’m feeling, something I’ve never felt before.And I think I might be okay with that.