The Fragile Ordinary(38)

I shook my head, embarrassed that confiding in my parents hadn’t been an option even then.

“You can’t let one teacher affect who you are, Comet.”

My gaze jerked up to meet his. “I’m not,” I said indignantly. “I’m... I know all teachers aren’t like her. Mr. Stone is a brilliant teacher.”

“Yeah? So has he seen your poetry?”

I squirmed a little, reminded of my conversation with Mr. Stone at Pan and how I’d been avoiding thinking about his words of wisdom. “Well, not my personal poetry, no.”

“Does anyone know about your poetry?”

“I have a blog,” I announced triumphantly. “All of my poems are on there.”

“Is it anonymous?”

I glared at him and he laughed. “I bet you even have the comments turned off.”

“What’s your point, Mr. King?”

Tobias nudged me with his shoulder. “My point is that you let one teacher steal away your confidence. That’s ridiculous. Your poems are great, Comet. You should share them with the world. If you can walk around in yellow tights and pink boots, surely you can share some poems.”

As lovely as his confidence in me was, I wasn’t quite ready for that. “What yellow tights?” I evaded.

“You were wearing yellow tights the night you ran out of that party.”

“Oh.”

“Comet?”

At his questioning tone, I looked up and sighed. “Don’t you get it, Tobias? This—” I gestured to what I was wearing “—it’s my way of fighting the girl who doesn’t want to share her poems with anyone. This is the part of me that could give a crap what anyone thinks of me. I’m proud of myself when I walk down the street wearing the clothes I want to wear, because it means I’m standing up for who I am. I wish... You have no idea how much I wish I could care less what anyone thinks about me at all, whether it’s my clothes or the words coming out of my mouth or the words I put on paper.

“But I do care. Too much. And I don’t think I’m strong enough to handle anyone reading my work yet. Okay?” I held my breath, fearing that Tobias would be disappointed in me.

To my utter shock and delight, however, the boy at my side took my right hand, turned it palm up and slid his over it. Tingles shot up my arm as his long fingers tickled my palm and then intertwined with mine. He squeezed, holding tight, and looking out over the sea he said softly, “Okay.”

Okay.

Just that one word. That one word and the way he held my hand made me fall.

And I fell hard.

*

My crush on Tobias only worsened over time.

For the next few weeks we met up as much as possible at the esplanade, the only thing changing between us the layers of clothing as autumn overpowered late summer. But despite talking to me during classes, Tobias never hung out with me at school. In fact, he made a concerted effort to not even look at me during lunch in the cafeteria. It was like I didn’t exist.

Not only did that hurt, but watching him mess around with Stevie and his friends pissed me off. Tobias wasn’t like them. He wasn’t a bully or disrespectful to teachers or a thief, and I could not understand how the boy who was so sweet to me could be so rude to our teachers and even some of our classmates when he was with his friends.

This lack of contact between us outside of class reinforced that Tobias just wanted a friendship with me. And a secret one at that.

It would be foolish to hope for anything more. Yet, anyone who’s ever had a crush on someone always has hope. Foolish or otherwise.

My hope was crushed on a Wednesday.

It was fourth period and I’d asked my history teacher if I could use the bathroom. Since I was a good student, she gave me a bathroom pass without hesitation. Knowing Tobias was in chemistry fourth period, however, I decided to take the long route to the bathroom, i.e. the one that was completely out of the way but would take me past Tobias’s class.

That was my state of mind now. Complete and utter awareness of Tobias King. Every morning was better because I woke up knowing I’d get to see him. I was always on Tobias alert, waiting to catch a glimpse of him, to hear his voice, brush his arm with mine.

It was on that ridiculously girlish thought that I spotted Tobias in his chemistry class. The sight of him brought me crashing down to Earth with a bang. Instead of breaking an arm or a leg on impact, I broke my naive little heart.

Jess Reed, a sixth year everyone knew, was sitting next to Tobias. The table pod they sat at covered their bottom half so the teacher couldn’t see Jess’s hand on Tobias’s thigh as they murmured with one another, heads bent close. Tobias smirked flirtatiously at whatever she said, making no move to remove her hand from his leg.

Jess Reed.

I was such an idiot.

Spinning back around, I blinked back the sting of tears and attempted to fight off the gnawing ache that pulsated in my chest. Jess was a year older than us. She was small and curvy, with tons of shining dark brown hair, perfect bronze skin and huge tip-tilted dark eyes with eyelashes that seemed to go on forever. Every boy in school fancied the pants off Jess Reed.

She was head of the events committee and a karate champion. Hot and a total badass.

How the hell could I think Tobias would see me—pale, gangly, bookish me!—as girlfriend material when he had the likes of Jess Reed flirting with him?