AARON
“You know, it’s weird, I met someone who looked just like you yesterday.” He looks at me as his thumb runs over the spines of books. “Or, Tuesday?” I wave away my contemplation. “It happened at some point in the recent past. That’s all that matters.”

He chuckles. “Really?”

“Yeah. And, you know, I thought he was you.” I pick up a German folklore book from its spot next to me on the window seat and open it.

He smirks at the response and looks away from me. “Okay.”

“…what?” I ask.

“Nono, I’m just imagining how you came up to me.” He looks down and pushes back the rim of his glasses.

“What, you think I’m incapable of going up to strangers?”

“Yes.”

I cross my arms and put the German folklore book on the window seat. “Okay, hot shit, how do you think I approached you?”

He immediately presses his back against the bookshelf; it shudders at the movement. “Okay, so, here’s my locker, right?” he asks, gesturing to a section of books. I nod. “And I’ll be you.”

“Just go.”

And he begins just sliding very slowly along the bookshelf, like the rest of the floor is gone and only a sliver remains. He stops by the “locker” and his feet begin scratching his legs. “H…hi,” he whispers, breathless. I snort. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Wow.”

“Thank you.”

“Wow. I am…” I don’t have the word to describe it.

“Amazed?” he suggests.

“No, I’m more appalled that you think I’m that insecure.” I look down at a painting of a witch, then add, “You’re saying it like I’m trying to ask you out.”

“Wouldn’t you, though?”

“No,” I answer immediately. Despite this, I begin applauding him. “Your acting skills are flawless, by the way.” He bows deeply. “I think you really captured ‘Insecure Aaron’ nicely.”

“You’re name’s Aaron?” he asks.

I catch sight of his grey eyes as he sits on the floor. The realization strikes me as odd, because, in the back of my head, I feel like he should’ve known it by now. We’ve been here I don’t know how many times, but I stick out my hand. “I’m Aaron. Madison. Aaron Madison-Samuels.” I exhale through my teeth.

He smiles and takes my hand. “I like sitting with you, Aaron. I’m Louis Randolph.”

The name rings a bell. “I’ve heard your name at school a couple times.”

“Oh?” he asks, smiling. “Hopefully it isn’t that bad.”

“Do you want it to be? I can improvise some stuff for you if you want.” Louis shakes his head. “Nah, uh…you and Erica – my friend Erica – are in that ‘Student Morale’ club together.” I lean back on the window seat. “I’ve only really heard snippets about you.”

“Well, for starters, that club’s called ‘Bremen Peers’.” Louis pauses and leans forwards. “Anything bad, though?”

“Do you want there to be bad?”

He sighs. “No.”

I stop to think, because I actually don’t remember what Erica’s said about him. ‘This is what comes from having a selectively shitty memory.’

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

I look back at him, because apparently I looked away. “What?”

Louis sighs. “Dude, it’s okay. You don’t have to try and remember stuff about me.” He gestures to himself. “I’m right here, right?” I nod. “And we’re talking to each other now, right?” I nod, almost pleased by that. “So let’s not freak out about it.”

I settle into the window seat, pleased with the response. But I feel the need to add, “And for the record, I didn’t go up to you like that. I walked up to you. Like a normal fucking person.”

Louis grins. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Shut up.”

LOUIS
Aaron turns and pulls a book from behind him. It’s a mythology book, but I can’t tell which mythology it is. Still, I sigh, happy. “Y’know, I met someone like you at school, too.” He looks at me with his hazel brown eyes. He doesn’t need to ask me to keep going, because he’s putting the book down. “You didn’t want to look at me.”

Aaron makes this weird, “sounds-like-me” face. “If I didn’t know you, that’d be my go-to response.” He swings his legs off the window seat to face me. “What did I do next?”

“You just tried not talking to me.”

“Also sounds like me.”

“But – no, like…like, remember when you told me you hated consumer ed?”

Aaron makes this throat-clearing sound and sticks out his tongue. “Fucking hate consumer ed.”

“I said that, and you asked me if…your friend put me up to this.”

“Who, Erica?”

“Mhm.”

Aaron rolls his eyes before he meets mine again. “You’ll have to excuse her. She’s weird. And she’s desperate for me to get my first kiss and stuff.”

“Why?”

He shrugs. “Who knows. It’s Erica.” Aaron leans back into the window and sighs. “There’s not that many ‘out’ people at school anyways, so…it’s not like I have my pick.”

I look up at a theology book on the shelf across from me. “There’s this guy in theater named Will. I think you and him’d get along.”

“Is he the one with the mohawk?”

I nod. Will’s got this awesome foot-high neon pink mohawk with red tips. I look at Aaron and smile, amused. “I know he looks scary, but he’s actually real nice.”

“He dresses like he’s in a biker gang.”

“He’s like, like a grizzly bear that actually is just, like, a big ol’ soft teddy bear.”

“Sorry, but did I suddenly become the kind of person who would go for someone flashy or…ostentatious?” Aaron gestures to himself, this time his hands signifying his whole body.

I laugh.

Aaron drops his hands in his lap. He’s looking away. “Please. If anything, I like someone who’s absolutely, painfully ordinary.” Aaron looks at me. “Like you.”

“…are you asking me out?”

His nose wrinkles. “No.”

“Aw. So sad.” Except he’s groaning and frowning at me hardcore. “Aaron, it’s okay. You’re my friend.” And I smile.

He smiles. “Good.” Aaron stands and begins running his fingers over some theology books. “Though I’m sure there’s a good example here.” He looks back at me. “Because I know theology’s your game.”

“Theology is about as appealing to me as horse manure is to a fish. And you know that.” But Aaron’s looking at me with this smug grin on his face.

“I know.”

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

Aaron shows his teeth and grins. “Yayyyyy, I’m an ass!”

“You’re weird, too.”

Aaron shrugs. “Not my problem. You wanna hang out with me, still.”

I do. “Eh, you’re all right.”

“I’m heartbroken,” he mopes, going back to the window seat. “I thought you loved hanging out with me.”

I lean back in my spot and sigh. “Are you always this dramatic?” It’s really entertaining.

He nods. “Don’t tell Erica, or she’ll draft me for the spring musical.” He looks away and frowns. “God, can you imagine me dancing onstage?”

“I can. You’re a ṃ̞̜̯̲͉̬ͣͮͤ̓ͧ͗̐e̪͈͗ͩ̅ͦs̤͕̼̭̤̥͇̃͠s̝̦̲͉̗̝̩͌̇̈͘.͍̩̜̩̹̜̈̐͋ͣ̇̌”

Aaron smirks. “So we’re in agreement?”

And I smile back. “Yes, we are.”

It’s a nice m̻̙͓͒o̦̙̘͚̹̒̑̐͟m̵͓̄̽̄eͦ͐͆̑ͦ̓ͥn̪ͬ̂ͯͤt͓͎̬.̗͔̦̝̘̪͍͛̓͆

ẍ͔͇̼͎̱̼̿̋͆̾ͮ̚

̖̼̭͇ͪ͑ͬ͗͝ ͖̱̲̰ͫͮͤ̑ͯ̇L̵̰̭̬̠ ͔

f̗̩̯͒͆̏ͦ̌̀d̲̙̬̺̬͔̈́͗̉̒̔̽̀q̵ͨ̈ͤ͋'̤̹̱̜͓̰ͧ͡ͅw͎͔̜͈̉̑̾̆͊̅ ̐͋̊

͕̻̭̰ͭu̸͉̦͈̿̆͐̾h̥̣͇ͬ͝p͉̭̻͙̜͓͙ͥͥ͠h̸̤͖̰͓͉̩p͓̲͑͋ͧ̽͋̋ͥ̕é̪̼͉͈̞̄̍̆ͬh̳̎ͫ̂̽u͛ͦ͏̥ ̟̘͋

z̛ͦ̒̋ͭͩḱ̮̝̳̻d̺̞͇͙͓̪͋͌͑͊ͣ͢w̤̃̈ ̧͓̘̰̾͑͒͆

k͎̤̱̗̩̇͂̿̈̚ḑ͆̅̏s̙̜̬̮͓̝͚̔ͩ̆̋̀̃̚s̫̺̟͖̣̩͎̉̑̐ͩ̀h̞͉̗̱͎̉q͙͙̟̱͌v̺͞ ̪̻̣͚̞͉̆͐͞

d̹̟i͖̖̥̊̀ͯ͊w͙̟͎͖̙̼̄̃h̗̘̞͍̤́̑ͅu̠͚͓̻̞̲͂͠

͎̘͙͉̰̼̙̄̂̊̾̾̾̀w̵̳͍̳̟̩̠̿̿̇̾̃k̀d̖̺̫͎̣͔̈́w̷͎̃ͪͤ.̺̫̟̪̠̇͑̽̋͂̉ͤ