I awoke with a smile on my face the next day, even though it was a Monday and a school day. Yet the thought of catching a glimpse of Frazer excited me enough to get me out of bed and even hum through my morning. Apparently my behaviour was so bewildering that Archer even asked me if I was sick.

Which, maybe I was. I knew nothing much would come of our brief interaction yesterday—because, with only half a year to go, it’s not like there was any point forming friendships when soon we’d go our separate ways. Nonetheless, my stomach flipped at the thought he’d be at my bus stop. My heart pounded at the idea that we might even share classes—which, I wasn’t sure considering I had barely paid him attention before. 

Regardless of how eager I was to see him again, I only expected at most a smile as we passed each other at school.

So when I walked out the front door that morning, head turned down as I fumbled my earpods out of my pockets, I jumped in shock as a husky voice greeted me with, “Morning, Emilia.”

My headphones fell to the ground, and a few curses fell out of my mouth after it. Then I glanced up at Frazer who stood at the end of my driveway, hands shoved into his pockets as his bag slung over one shoulder.

His eyes widened, and he was quick to rush to my side, helping me pick them up and dust them off. Yet as he handed the earbuds over to me, he then hit me with, “Are You Okay Day, by the way, isn’t for another couple of months.”

“Is it?” I replied, dodging the hand he held out to help me up—because I was sure my palms had grown sweaty by now. “I had to think of something to get you to open up.” As we headed towards the bus stop, I couldn’t help noticing his steps were keeping pace with mine, almost as if he was walking with me. “Is that why you were waiting for me? To tell me that?” I pressed after the silence started to eat at me.

“Huh? Oh, no. I figured after yesterday it would be a bit weird to go back to how we were before. I mean, it’s only us at this bus stop. Now that we know each other, we shouldn’t avoid each other, you know?”

Know each other… I mulled over his words as I snuck a glance at him. Once again, his height took me by surprise, but mesmerising me even more were his dazzling green eyes that stared at the houses across the street while we waited for the bus. I mean, I know a bit more about him now, but he doesn’t know anything about—

Seeming to feel the heat of my gaze, his eyes flickered my way, and I was quick to whip my head away. All the while, flames licked at my cheeks, and my hands clenched my bag straps. 

“Did you end up talking to your mum?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t ask about my gawking.

“I did,” he replied rather peacefully. “We put some of his pictures back up around the house, too. Ones from when I was much younger when we were all closer… Thank you.” 

This time I caught him staring at me. Though he had the courage to not look away. 

“I’m glad you pushed me to talk to you, even if it’s not Are You Okay Day.”

I smirked at his jab, and he couldn’t hide the slight upturn of his lips.

“I needed someone to push me to take that leap and talk to my mum. I’ve always been great at avoiding conflict, which sucks when it’s in your own home. And in the end, there wasn’t any conflict really. Just a lot of crying and apologising.” He laughed despite the wistful tone to his voice. 

“Well, if you ever need someone to knock sense into you again, I’m not far.”

We shared a smile before it was cut short by the groaning of the bus coming down our street.

Then, like it was any other morning, we forwarded onto the vehicle without another word. He headed up to the back where he normally sat, and I took a seat towards the front, popping my headphones in and drowning the world out.

◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ 

As it turned out, we were in each other’s English class second period. As I slipped my belongings from my bag, I glanced up as he rounded the corner, our gazes not taking long to meet. 

He was with his friends, so he didn’t make much of an effort to acknowledge me. But as our eyes locked, he nodded to the classroom as if to say ‘you’re in here?’ 

And when I nodded back, he threw me a grin, before turning back to his friends and continuing as if we were strangers.

When class ended, he took his time to leave, meanwhile I rushed out, a little wary of whether he’d strike up a conversation with me—not that I expected him to, but I wanted to avoid it at all costs in fear of becoming a babbling idiot again. Then I took off to the other side of the school where I normally sat by the art block.

I was a few bites into my sandwich, earpods in my ear as I bopped along to the music, when he rounded the building.

Once again, across the school yard, our gazes locked. 

His footsteps faltered, and he threw me a wave. His friends casted a curious glance my way, dumbfounded expressions plastered across their faces.

Yet, that was it. He caught up with his mates and they disappeared around the next corner before I could respond.

The bus ride home was also uneventful. He had already boarded the bus before me, but like it was a sixth sense. Our gazes met once again as I turned into a seat at the front of the bus. 

I didn’t understand it. How could we have gone over twelve years living next door, attending the same schools, and barely ever noticing each other, to, now, when it seemed like he was everywhere. Now, when places were packed with people, he stood out like an iridescent light, and I was the bug attracted to him.

My stomach churned as my mind gave power to crush that was consuming me, and I half longed for these feelings to disappear so that everything could go back to the simplicity it was before. 

But, of course, the other half of me was fighting the urge to not turn around to look at him again.

◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ 

When I forwarded off the bus, I put in an extra level of effort to lengthen my strides in the hopes we could avoid walking together. Because if we spoke after that ridiculously long bus ride where all I thought about was him, I was sure I’d say something to embarrass myself.

Yet my efforts were to no avail given his ridiculously long legs that put in little work to catch up to me. “You should have waited for me,” he said.

“Should I have?” I ignorantly replied.

“Yeah, I told you this morning we should walk together.”

“I thought that was for the mornings while we have to wait for the bus.”

“And the afternoons.”

My heart was racing, air to my lungs seemed limited, and I was certain you’d be able to see my reddened cheeks from the moon. Though for some reason, he didn’t seem to notice. Or, if he did, he chose to ignore it.

Because then he asked, “Do you not want to be friends?”

I had been doing my best to not stare at him in fear he’d see the adoration in my eyes. But his question took me off guard, attracting my attention like metal to a magnet.

Vulnerability oozed from his gaze, as he awaited my response.

Both our steps began to slow. “Friends?” I repeated.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, breaking the eye contact first. “As I told you yesterday, I found it really easy to talk to you about things I normally find hard to discuss. I figured it would be cool to keep doing that and maybe hang out sometimes.”

“Oh,” was all I said for a while. Meanwhile my mind was squealing in delight. Hang out again? Share personal stories with each other? Rely on each other? How great would it be to get closer to him… but also, how scary. What if I get attached? What if my crush never goes away and one day he needs to talk to me about his feelings for another person? Or, worse, what if he realises I’m too boring to be friends with and leaves me…

“Sorry… I think I read into your act of kindness yesterday. I’m probably too—”

“I’d like that,” I quickly cut him off before he could climb into the hole I could already see him digging in his mind. “Though know that I haven’t had a friend in a long time, so I don’t know what is required of me. Could you recommend a guide book? I do prefer the ‘For Dummies’ versions.”

He snorted at my comment before bumping his arm against my shoulder in jest. “You’ve always got some random comment to say that makes me laugh. And you’re the nicest person I know. So many people have been missing out, Em.”

We had stopped in front of my house now, but he didn’t keep walking to his. Instead, he turned to face me. 

And ringing in my head was that I was already on a nickname basis with him.

“But if I’m your only friend, then I’m glad I don’t have to share you with anyone else,” he then added. 

He laughed at his joke, but that night I played his words—and his expression—over and over in my mind, wondering if I had began to misremember the memory, or if perhaps there really was a touch of the same longing brewing in his gaze that I knew was written all over my face.