Adam
I looked out through the windshield at the broad, grassy lawn in front of me. My stomach was tied up in knots, despite my best efforts to keep myself as cool as possible. If I could handle public debate competitions, I could definitely handle my first day at a new high school.
But just like with the lead up to any competition, the fluttering in my stomach betrayed how nervous I actually was. I was always able to get it back to normal once it was showtime, but anticipation was a real killer.
My eyes traveled across the campus in front of me. The beautifully maintained courtyard was next to a large old stone building. A group of well-dressed, obviously very hip students were gathered on the front steps. Just looking at them made my heart lurch. The only thing worse than having to go into an entirely new space alone was having to do it while people were watching.
My phone buzzed, and I was grateful to have something to delay me heading inside. It was a text from my best friend, Miranda.
Can’t believe it’s the first day of our senior year, and you aren’t here with me.
I let out a sigh. Miranda and I had talked about this day for so long. We’d been preparing for senior year, ready to take on arguably the most important year of our lives thus far. College applications, planning for our actual future as mostly independent adults—and also closing out our time at school with incredible memories. It was supposed to be a year to remember.
And instead, I was here, and she was there, and everything was wrong.
Yeah, it sucks, I wrote back. Catch you later? Usual place?
K. Don’t let those Cypress Prep kids get in your head, Miranda wrote back immediately.
I pictured her in her car, as well, waiting to go inside and get her day started. The only difference was that, for her, she already knew the school she was walking into; she just had to do it alone.
I was doing it alone, too, but I had no idea what the hell was waiting for me inside.
I sighed. This head? Not a chance.
I pocketed my phone and gripped the steering wheel, bracing myself. It was just one foot in front of the other. That was it. All I had to do was get myself into the building, go to my classes, and get through the day.
Just like when I was first attending debate competitions, I had to close my eyes, count to three, and force myself to jump.
I pushed open my car door and got out, then my eyes skimmed over the rows of brand-new, literally sparkling SUVs parked out front. I glanced back at my old, well-loved Datsun. It stuck out like a sore thumb.
“That’s okay, bud,” I mumbled. “We’ve got what they don’t: character.”
I shrugged my shoulders back and brushed off the front of my new blue suit jacket. I glanced at myself in the side-view mirror, trying not to groan at my appearance. I pushed my sleeves up to my elbows, hoping it might improve it. But blue was so not my color, and no amount of changing up the sleeves was going to improve that. Just like with my jacket, the best I could do with my mandatory uniform pants was roll up the cuffs. There were only so many ways to make a uniform stylish.
I tossed my book bag across my shoulder and smiled to myself as I looked at the building ahead. “Showtime,” I said to myself.
***
Max
I bit into an apple as I looked over the parking lot. I was sitting in my usual spot on the top step of the school building, soaking in some early rays of sun before getting locked away inside all day. Next to me, my friend Devon leaned back on his elbows, seemingly insistent on taking up as much space as possible.
Across the green, my eyes landed on a familiar face—Adam. He held his head up high, no phone or book as a crutch.
“I still don’t get how they can transfer someone senior year,” Devon grumbled as I chewed in silent thought. “As if he stands a chance in joining our team. I doubt he’ll make it past the first challenge.” He let out a scoff, shaking his head.
Even though Devon was talking to me, I couldn’t take my eyes off of Adam. I wondered if he was nervous. He didn’t seem to be. I watched as he smiled at a passing kid, his thumb tucked under the strap of his backpack. There was something effortless about it all. He carried himself with a particular brand of confidence. It was no wonder Cypress wanted him so badly.
“Devon, don’t be a jerk,” I said. “We debated Woodlands High last spring. If Adam is as good as he was then, no doubt he’ll be on the team.”
Devon sat up, his eyes fixed on Adam. I could tell from his posture the reason he couldn’t take his eyes away was for a very different reason than mine. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“I didn’t realize the dress code allowed for male students to dress like that,” he said. “Interesting styling choices.”
I could hear the underlying commentary to his words. Adam was radiating queerness in a very specific way; he was able to do it even with our dress code being pretty strict and generic. I found it almost admirable that he was able to find a way to show some character.
“Adam’s checked all the boxes—blue blazer, white shirt, khakis, black shoes,” I said, shutting him down quickly. I wasn’t interested in going down that route with him.
“You know what I mean,” Devon said. Apparently, even though I didn’t have any interest in the conversation, Devon wasn’t afraid to double down on it.
I turned my attention back to Adam, taking in the way he’d rolled his pants and the way he was wearing his blazer. There was obvious attention put into his appearance, from the careful way he styled his hair to the way his backpack coordinated with the rest of the outfit. He’d managed to make the most boring clothes alive interesting, and it communicated effortlessly that he was also interesting by association.
Administration had made it clear that the uniform was meant to make us all blend in, but it was clear to me—Adam had every intention of standing out.
***
Adam
I swallowed an inward chuckle at some of the looks coming my way as I walked across the lawn. It was hard not to find it all at least a little bit funny. If they really thought some sideways looks were going to be enough to make me run home crying, they’d have to try a hell of a lot harder than that.
I had to admit that I did stick out. With the exception of a couple of kids gathered at the bottom of the steps, most of the crowd were wearing what my dad would have called “pressed” uniforms.
“Nice!” one of the girls in the bottom group called. I could tell from her smile that she earnestly meant it. “I should’ve changed up my uniform too—this outfit is just so blah. I love the cuffed look.”
I smiled easily. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t look too bad on you.”
She smiled in response, and I kept going on my way, careful to look at as many people as I could straight on. I had no interest in shying away. Confidence was just a game of pretending until suddenly, it really didn’t matter anymore. People were going to stare no matter what, since I was the new kid. I might as well lean into it.
I headed up the stairs and felt suddenly very aware of eyes on me. When I looked up, I saw Max staring right at me.
Max.
I paused, truly rattled for the first time since getting out of my car. I stepped down and joined the cool chick from earlier.
“Hey, what’s your schedule look like? I’m trying to get to know some people around,” I said, both genuinely and to make small talk. I needed to take a moment to gather myself after seeing Max for the first time since our debate last year.
“Oh! Let me see!” the girl said and pulled up her schedule on her phone.
I could still see it all clear as day in my mind. Max, tall and quiet, strategically kicked ass during our debate. He’d impressively knocked out each of my teammates in order, until it was just the two of us one-on-one.
In competition, Max was fierce—his dark eyes blazing, his jaw tight. It was the look in his eyes that stayed with me long after Max had beaten me.
As I headed up the steps after talking to the girl, I felt those eyes on me again. I looked up to meet his gaze.
No doubt about it—unreadable, steely Max was undeniably hot.
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