Okay, so it's been a while since I've written anything, and I'm sure nobody knows me because this is the first time I've ever posted anything on FP. But this story kind of formed in my head when I was out to dinner with my parents tonight, and I got really excited. So…I hope it's not totally crap.
Oh, and the rating's for later chapters. Soon-later, but still. Not this chapter, at least.
Chapter One: Note Passing and Conniption Fits
You know that story, where there's this guy who can have basically anyone he wants, but he's only interested the one person who couldn't be less interested in him?
What the hell is that? First of all, if this guy can have anyone he wants, why would he fall for somebody who acts like an enormous douche towards him? He wouldn't, is the correct answer.
Unless he sees this person as a challenge, like, 'if I can get so and so to fall in love with me, then that means I truly can have absolutely anyone I want.'
But this guy, the one from the story….he's irrelevant. I'm not him. I don't think like him. My name is Hunter Andrews, and okay, maybe I'm not desired by every single kid at my school, but there are plenty of them that do want me, and I don't see why I can't just fall in love with one of them. Eventually. The basis of my attraction to people is that I notice they're into me.
Even I'm not quite sure how I decide which of my many admirers I'm going to choose next. I just, I look at some guy whose been looking at me and I picture them thinking about that one glance for the rest of the day. And I get this thrill in my stomach, like I'm getting off on the idea that he's getting off on me. Suddenly, I'm drawn to that guy like a, a fucking magnet.
So I go for it. Go for him. It's never much of a chase.
That kind of makes me sound like a heartless bastard, like I turn my admirers into pawns and mess around with them until I get bored. That's not what happens.
Well, not intentionally, at least. But that kind of ends up happening anyway. Point is, I actually wouldn't mind that much if I found someone...it just hasn't happened, yet.
Anyway, the first time I noticed Ely Gardner was in third period Calc, the first week of senior year. I felt his gaze on me and when I turned to gaze back, I realized that while I had had a summer full of summer flings, his summer had been full of fantasies about me.
After that, it was like I couldn't stop. I would see him writing in his notebook, and wonder if he was taking notes or doodling our initials in hearts all over the paper. I would see him holding his breath when Mrs. Lane assigned partners, and I was hoping that he was hoping our names would be called together.
But they never were, so I decided to make the first move myself.
The opportunity presents itself the very next morning in Calc. I get here, and Ely's already here, but his best friend Amy, who sits next to him…she's not here. So I take her seat.
Ely doesn't look up when I sit down. "Aim," he says, "I only did about half of this shit. Can I copy the rest from you, ple--" he looks up, mid-sentence, and when he sees me and not Amy, he freezes.
I get a thrill in my stomach. I smile. "Hey."
"HUNTER," he bursts out, and grips his pencil so hard it starts to splinter. He's turning an alarming shade of red. "You…here…I…thing…"
It's probably the best reaction I've ever provoked out of anyone. "Hey," I repeat.
"Hey…Hey." His voice cracks. "What're you…hey."
"Doing here? I was just wondering if I could…borrow…a pencil?" Okay, so he's getting a reaction out of me, too. Kind of. I mean, I don't know why I just said that. I don't need a pencil, and even if he did have an extra, he clearly needs it for himself now. "But never mind," I amend quickly, looking at the destroyed pencil in his hand.
He's already looking though his bag, though. I reach to stop him, put my fingers through his hair and tilt his head so his gaze is off his bag and is once again meeting mine.
Ely has really soft hair. It's light brown and it's messy and it's…really, really soft. I don't want to stop touching it, but I look at Ely and I can tell he's about to have a fucking conniption fit.
Just from me touching his hair. So, I should probably stop.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see that Amy has just entered the classroom. She takes one look at me and Ely and plops herself down in a seat towards the back of the classroom.
This clues me into the fact that Ely must be into me enough that he's told his friends about it. Or, he's told Amy at least. Not that it isn't already obvious that he's into me, considering he's thisclose to hyperventilating right now.
I'm just sort of staring at Ely with my fingers still tangled in his hair; I probably look really stupid, but then again, so does Ely. Well, depending on how you look at it. He's either doing a really crap job at being a coherent and functional human being, or he's doing a rather smashing impression of a tomato.
It's strangely endearing, actually.
I drag my fingers out of his hair and sort of ghost them across his cheek before letting my hand fall back against my side. I sort of accidentally jab him in the eye with my index finger. He doesn't seem to mind, or even really notice.
In my mind, I'm trying to figure out how to ask Ely on a date, but at the moment, it doesn't seem possible because: a) There is no decent way to segue from "can I borrow a pencil?" to "do you want to go out sometime?" b) Since Amy is sitting in the back of the classroom I have 53 minutes left next to Ely, and asking him out will make the last 52 extremely awkward, and c) I fear his reaction. I think he will literally die from shock.
I'm at a complete loss for what to do next. I can't think of one thing to do or say that wouldn't be extremely forward. So I turn to Mrs. Lane's lecture on logarithms.
I don't know why I thought that I could possibly become engaged by the lesson. I hate Calculus. After fifteen minutes, I know the only thing I'll be able to register for the rest of class will be Ely's presence next to me.
I decide to pass him a note. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner, even if Ely can't form a sentence with me here, he can't stutter on a piece of paper.
You know, you're very distracting. I can't stop thinking about you long enough to focus on this shit.
I pass Ely the note, and he reads it over about ten times, then cracks this huge goofy smile and sticks it in his pocket, instead of just writing me back on the other side.
He doesn't write me back at all, actually. So, I give him another note.
Are you dating anyone?
Even though I know he isn't. At least I know I'll get an answer out of him this time.
He reads it and looks up at me, then shakes his head. It seems like I won't get a note from him this time either, so I'm going to have to think of something else to write.
Suddenly, I feel Ely's fingers on top of mine and my gaze jerks up. He's sliding my pencil out of my hand, even though he's doing it with more contact than necessary. He turns the new note over and scribbles something down, handing it to me. I let my fingers tangle with his briefly when he hands me the note.
I look up, mouthing 'how?' but Ely is already writing again.
Why me? Why now? The new note says.
And I don't know what answer to give him. I've been thinking about you thinking about me just sounds strange, and I'm not even sure if it's entirely true anymore. I mean, before class, that was it, but now there might be a better answer to Why me? Why now? that I can't really put into words.
So I decide on Because I want to.
The note passing got us to the end of class, but it never got us to What are you doing Friday? I mean, I wrote it, and I have no idea why I didn't give it to him then, why I shoved it in my back pocket instead.
I didn't see Ely for the rest of the day, not until the school was almost empty and I was heading out to my car. He was sitting against the big oak tree in front of our school, talking with Amy and two other friends whose names I don't know. But, one of them looks up at me suddenly, even though I'm a good thirty feet away. Their entire conversation draws to a halt.
That's how I know they were talking about me. Ely was talking about me. Possibly, he had been all day.
In front of Ely's crossed legs, there are several pieces of crumpled paper. My notes. I walk over slowly.
Ely's friends jump up and mumble excuses before taking off. The one who noticed me tells him she has to go and get her violin from the orchestra room.
"Isn't that it?" I ask as I get closer, pointing to the violin case next to her.
"No…I, er…I need my other violin." She takes off running.
Ely and I are alone. I look at him and smile. I weigh my options; flirt with the idea of wordlessly dropping the last note onto his pile before walking away.
Instead, I sit down next to him. He's blushing again, but he's not so uncomfortable being around me anymore.
That's a good sign. I think.
I don't know why I'm nervous about asking him. If I asked him on a date, I'm sure he'd say yes. I'm sure he'd be thrilled.
But I don't ask. Not yet. We just both sit there, looking at each other. It's comfortable. It's...nice.
Eventually, I did ask him if he'd go out with me. I just don't like thinking about it, because I'm pretty sure I made an idiot out of myself next to him, I was stuttering and mumbling and I don't need to remind myself of that.
The only thing really worth mentioning is this: Ely said yes. Of course Ely said yes. Ely practically choked on his own tongue saying yes.
So, he and I are going out tomorrow night.
AN: Okay, so I'm not to sure if I like the ending or not. It's sort of choppy, right? but I couldn't think of any other decent way to get Hunter to say what he wanted to in a sufficiently Hunter-esque way.
Also, this is the first thing I've written in the first person. Let me know what you think? Please?