The Good Hair Family Sitcom

S4 E13.2: Whatever Comes Next

Wyatt's POV

I keep my face on my locker as I stuff my backpack inside and grab my notebook for class. Elbows brush my spine as they pass behind me down the hallway, but nobody stops. Nobody stops until someone does, and I know who it is; I see the silver flower clip in her hair out of the edge of my eye.

"Hey," Hiral says.

I glance back, muttering, "Hey."

I don't keep a conversation. I still feel awkward. Does she think we're a couple? If she does, she's wrong. But, like, I don't think I ever did anything to make her think that? I also just don't understand relationship stuff at all, so maybe I did something by accident and had no idea.

Rather than move on, Hiral stays and asks, "You feeling better?"

"Yeah."

I see a glimpse of her nod, and then she steps away, and I now feel even more like a jerk than I did before. When I get to class, I see my desk, the empty one behind Hiral, but then I see the girls in the desks near her, and I see them watching me, making their judgements. I think I've just accepted that Hiral's never gonna talk to me again, because I choose the seat at the back corner, leaving my usual one bare, and the girls' whispers get louder.

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Wyatt's POV

I was hoping to avoid Hiral for the rest of the day, and I almost did, but right as the last bell chimes, I find her already waiting by my locker. She doesn't look happy, and her winged eyeliner only exaggerates her angry look.

"How did you get to my locker before me?" I question. "The gym's on the other end of the school."

"I left early, because I knew you would avoid me otherwise."

"Mx. Franklin let you leave early?" I say surprised.

"I didn't ask, and they didn't stop me. Now what's going on with you?"

Her brown eyes burrow into me uncomfortably, so I drop mine down on my feet and shrug.

"I don't know.

"Poppycock," she retorts.

Frustrated, I shove my hand behind her to get to my locker, and she stumbles aside, giving me space to toss my books on my shelf and swing my backpack over my shoulder. I don't take the time to get my homework for tonight, because I don't want to stay around here any longer. Plus it's not like I'm gonna do it anyway. I shut my locker and head off down the hall, but Hiral only gets more annoyed, marching after me. I swirl around the other kids, but she stays on my tail, and when she catches up beside me, I finally give in, too bothered by the whole situation to hold it in.

"Did you tell people we were dating?" I grumble.

She looks completely caught off guard by that. "What? No! Of course not."

"Then why do people think that?"

I keep up my pace, and she continues to match it, having to jog a bit at points.

"People are dumb and presumptuous," she answers. "Why does it bother you so much? Do you like someone?"

"No," I snap. "That's—"

I cut off my own sentence and dip down the next hallway on the right. Hiral knows to follow me without me needing to tell her, and the two of us retreat from the buzz of the hallway into the school's storage room that they never keep locked. The door falls heavily shut, and I make my way past the old marching band uniforms and hockey nets toward the giant foam mats that sit stacked in a pile taller than me, my steps echoing off the pipe-striped ceiling. I chuck my backpack on the floor then hoist myself up onto the mats to sit atop the stack. Hiral does the same, her knees getting caught on the frills of her dress for a second before she frees herself and settles down next to me.