Don't Touch Me, Hold My Hand

prologue

Don't get me wrong, I'm stoked you're here, really super duper excited you're interested in my little story. Because it's nothing special, but it sure is fun to tell. :D

I know what started the whole domino reaction of events was a class Liam and I happened to both be enrolled in our senior year of high school. So, I guess I could start there.

But where it all really started is years ago, way back in ninth grade, when I was considerably more timid, and Liam was considerably more on my radar. 

My mornings, in ninth grade, were blissfully peaceful and quiet, my classes monotonous, but not terrible, my teachers fair and classmates tolerable. But my afternoons. My afternoons were crowded with noise and confusion and awkwardness and embarrassment. The reason for such distinct differences in my schedule?

 I had every afternoon class except one with Liam Day. 

I didn't have anything against him really, apart from how awkward and self-conscious I sometimes became around him when he happened to wear a nice pair of jeans or his hair fell just right in his eyes. He was cute, okay? 

His gray eyes were direct and intentional, whenever he made eye contact it made you wanna never look away. And when he spoke in class he sounded so intelligent for our age, and his ideas were always a little out there, but entertaining to listen to. 

He just seemed so sure of himself. So already confident in who he was, and accepting of himself.

And I was none of those things. I changed my mind about my personality on the daily. 

I admired Liam. I wanted Liam to like me. I wanted to befriend him, at least be able to talk to him in class, or wave to him in the hallways the way naive little fourteen-year-old me envisioned hallway dynamics going down. 

At any rate, I thought Liam was cool. 

And Liam?

Liam was indifferent. 

He didn't even have a thought about me. 

Sometimes he'd include me in a joke or a story, but only for the benefit of the class's entertainment, and never more than he included anyone else. If we happened to ever be grouped together for an assignment he addressed me about as much as the rest of the group, pulled his weight, and then moved back to his seat. 

An acquaintance, a classmate. Nothing more, nothing less.

I looked forward to my afternoons every day, even though being in such close proximity to him made me anxious sometimes, stressing over how presentable I looked and whether my personality would fail me or not. Liam made my afternoons exciting and enjoyable. He always managed to engage the class and make the time pass quickly. He made everyone laugh without being a disruption. I don't know. I just thought he was so great. 

I wanted to know him. 

I wanted to not ever have boring, peaceful afternoons again. 

The summer after ninth grade, I fantasized about having a full schedule with Liam the next year, learning more about him, getting to laugh every day again. But, alas, we only shared one class in tenth grade, a computer science class that was taught by a semi-strict teacher who enforced seating charts. Liam and I were on opposite sides of the room, and my view of him was obstructed by the mass of computer screens and backpacks and water bottles and bobbing heads of the other kids. 

Junior year we shared another class, an easy-A economics one, but again, still just the one. 

By the time senior year rolled around, I didn't bother getting my hopes up about having a Liam-stacked schedule. I'd honestly kind of gotten used to just seeing him around at school functions, the one class, and hearing stories about him from everyone else. Obviously we were just two kids out of the many who had happened to have a similar schedule one year. I'd stopped seeking out interactions with him for about a year and considered myself understandably distanced. He had his friends, and I had mine. I saw him once a day and got to laugh in that class enough to motivate me towards the next one. 

It was a good system. I liked it. I'd come around to looking forward to our one class. 

I received my senior year schedule and discovered I'd been right not to expect many classes with him. In fact, I probably shouldn't have even prepared myself for the one class. Based on everything I knew about his diploma goals and class selection, we didn't have any classes together senior year. 

I was pretty much done with all my required credits, so a lot of my schedule was extracurriculars or the overflow classes the counselors put kids in when they just need somewhere to put us. Liam had openly and intentionally kept his high school courses fairly consistent, so it made sense that he was still taking "actual" classes like math and science and history. 

I folded my schedule up and walked out of the school office, shrugging. I guess ninth grade had just been a crazy collection of good fortune, and I would have to settle for seeing Liam in the halls and hearing stories about or from him in the cafeteria. 

At least, that's what I thought my senior year would look like.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note

YAY a NEW STORY!!!!

I'm stoked about this one, I really love the premise and all my ideas for it!

and this prologue just spilled out of me, 850 words in like thirty minutes, i'm so happy! 

so welcome!!! and thank you for reading!!!

and i love you!!

come back for more!!

gumdrop <3