The Art Of Noticing

Chapter One: I'm not a people person.

2018 August

I'm not much of a people person.

That's something I learned about myself over the past year and a half. I wasn't always this way, though. And I know the reason why.

I used to be the kind of guy who socialized at school dances and flirted with the girls I thought were pretty.

I used to love driving on the highway at 80 miles an hour, wind hitting my face, the perfect song on full volume.

And I used to have friends.

Peter Stilinski and Lea Price were their names. We'd do everything together. Weekend drives to the beach or playing games at the house or sneaking into late night movies with candy we stole from the nearest general store.

It was perfect.

But then Peter met his girlfriend, Autumn, last spring and then suddenly they'd do everything together.

I try to convince myself he didn't do it on purpose. I'm told that's just how couples are these days. A guy by himself would normally be pretty considerate, but with a girlfriend, well.

It was just Lea and I for a while. Until one day, it wasn't.

Now it's just me.

My name is Sebastian Gallagher. My first name took inspiration from The Little Mermaid, that movie about the fish girl who sold her voice for a pair of legs and a fickle prince. Crap trade, if you ask me. I watched it once. I didn't like it.

My last name was taken from my father, and other than that, it's the only thing I have of his. He bolted when I was little. I don't remember much of him and I don't mind. I've always been somewhat content with my family.

I lived in a family full of overachievers.

My mother, Lauren, ran her own online business. She mostly worked from home. I couldn't tell you what her business did if my life depended on it. And my brother, Will, who got a normal name, goes to Yale.

I love my brother, but if you ask me, I think he cheated. The only reason he got in was for being "good at sports". I'm not good at sports, but I could go to Yale.

I don't really get to see him much anyways these days now that the school year has started.

I missed Will. Honestly. I really did miss him.

I missed seeing his face. He had blue eyes, blonde hair and was six foot one. The height was something we had in common. The eye color too.

Mom always thought it strange that Will had blonde hair when none of the rest of us did. Everyone in the family had full heads of brunette hair, or british brunette, as mom liked to call it. And that went for my cousins, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents. My father was brunette too, apparently. Not that it mattered.

With Will gone and my lack of friends, I normally just spend my after school hours at the coffee shop practically across the street from my house. Wetagers.

I normally keep my head down when I'm there. In my mind, it helps me stay unseen. It really just makes me look like a loser.

Today, a Tuesday in the middle of August, sort of blended with the rest of the days this week. And the week before that, and the week before that. I would probably go home around 6:00, eat dinner with my mom at 7:00, converse about the mundane, avoid personal questions, then go downstairs and spend the rest of the night in my room. Then I'd wake up the next morning and do the exact same freaking thing.

My days seemed to be melting together into this constant loop.

Evergoing. Always the same.

But today, a Tuesday in the middle of August, wasn't the same.

I won't say there was some higher power pushing and pulling the strings on this particular afternoon.

I won't say it. Because it's not true. But I will admit that if it weren't for today, I'd be standing in my cap and gown without anyone to celebrate with.

Today was the day where everything changed.

And on a Tuesday of all days.

I walked into Wetagers after school, as was my routine, made my way to my two-seater table in the corner, and sat with my back to the wall. I liked knowing no one was watching me from behind. I also liked knowing I could see everything that was going on around me.

No surprises.

I looked down from the scenery in front of me for a moment and pulled out my folder of homework, my journal, and a book. I could hear the footsteps of people around me but didn't think much of it. I should have.

"What can I get for you today, Sebastian?" a voice asked.

I looked up to see a girl. She was tall. Her long, brown, curly hair was tied into a loose ponytail. She was holding a notepad and staring right at me.

I don't know why, but the moment I saw her I had this longing urge to know her. Well, I sort of knew her, from school. But in the crowded halls of Cleveland High, it was easy to miss something important.

And right now, something about this girl felt important.

I suppose her's was a simple style. From what I had seen, she never wore shirts with logos, never wore big lavish jewelry. Always solid colored baby T's, always denim shorts, always simple gold studs. And she always wore the same gold paperclip necklace.

"How do you know my name?" I asked, nervous.

"We've gone to the same high school for two years, silly", she laughed.

"Oh. Right. Um-" I scrambled for words.

"It's alright if you don't know me. You don't really seem like the friends type."

"I wouldn't say that, exactly. I'm just not the noticeable type."

"I noticed you."

"It's your job to notice people sitting at tables."

"True," she grinned with an eyebrow raised, "but I'm not the only person who works here."

I chuckled.

Witty, I thought.

"I'm Reese, by the way," she held out her hand to be shaken, and I did before putting my hand comfortably back in my pocket.

Then there was a moment of silence. In that moment, I couldn't help but wonder if my Leo haircut looked too messy or if my fingernails were too dirty or if there was something, anything wrong with my face. Nothing was wrong with my face except for the fact that no matter how much I tried my best to make eye contact, I always found myself looking around her and not actually at her.

"So, are you a senior too, or-"

"Yeah, I am."

"Cool." I answered, having nothing much else to say.

"You still haven't told me what you'd like." She tapped her pen on the notepad.

"Right, sorry. Um, can I just get a chai?"

She began writing down my order.

"Hot or iced?" she inquired without removing her focus from the notepad.

"Yes," I replied.

Reese looked up at me confused. "So. . . which one?"

"Iced!" I said quickly, "I meant to say iced."

She smiled then looked down at the notepad as she continued scribbling my order.

She looked up, "Okay. It'll be ready in a few."

She smiled again then turned, making her way back to the front counter. I watched as she walked away, her hair swaying from side to side as she moved.

Holy crap.