PabStell // crush

04.

The last lecturer's voice faded, leaving behind a room buzzing with Friday's freedom.  My classmates excitedly planned their weekend celebrations, their voices a cheerful hum that contrasted sharply with my own quiet solitude. I sat at the back, staring out the window, already mentally preparing for the quiet comfort of my own home.  Then Josh appeared.  Of course.

Josh, my classmate, and the bane of my existence in our shared course.  He stopped me as I gathered my things.

"Hep! Hep! Hep! Where are you going?"

"Home," I replied flatly.

"We're going somewhere," he insisted, his grin infuriating.

"I'm not interested," I said, turning away.  But he was relentless, his hand firmly gripping my arm, dragging me along despite my protests.  I resigned myself to my fate; I knew better than to fight him.

And so, here I was, nursing a drink in a dark corner, watching Josh charm everyone around him. A girl approached.

"Hi! I'm Elle."

"Pablo," I mumbled, ignoring her outstretched hand. I returned to my drink, relieved when she finally left.  I sighed, rubbing my temples.  It wasn't the alcohol; it was the constant stream of people trying to engage with me

He finished his drink, rising to leave, only to be stopped by another newcomer.  My phone buzzed—a message from Josh.

"Why do you look so miserable?"

I shot back, "Why is he here?"

"He's in our class, don't you know?"

"Do you think I'd ask if I did?!"  I glared at my phone, then gave him the finger. He laughed, returning to his conversation.

My attention was immediately drawn to the man standing by the door, a familiar smile playing on his lips—the very same smile that had captivated me years ago. I settled back into my seat, my gaze fixed on him.  It had been years since I last saw him, and now, here he was. So close, yet it felt like a lifetime had passed.

"Sorry, I'm late," he apologized, his voice a pleasant melody that cut through the chatter of the room. He was greeted warmly by the others, exchanging high-fives as if they were old friends, before settling into the empty chair directly opposite me.

I shouldn't have been surprised. He'd always been friendly, approachable. The person beside him began introducing the rest of us, but he cut them off, "No need, I know him…" He smiled at me, a smile that sent a jolt of memory through me.  "...You're Pablo, right?"

His words surprised me, but I hid my astonishment. I hadn't expected him to remember me, let alone my name. "I'm Stell," he said, extending his hand. His eyes met mine

a silent tension hanging heavy between Pablo and Stell.  Pablo's smile, a playful curve of his lips, had been met with Stell's stunned silence, a blush creeping up his neck. The quick release of Pablo's hand, the nervous scratching at his neck – it was a familiar tableau, a silent comedy Pablo found endearing. Stell, ever the shy one, looked away, shaking his head.

"You know him? How come?" Stell's companion's voice cut through the quiet. Stell glanced at Pablo, throat clearing before he answered.  Who wouldn't know him?  The question hung in the air, unspoken but understood. Stell's gaze locked onto Pablo's again, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.  "Actually, we were in the same class... He was so popular during high school... and I think even now..." he mumbled something inaudible, a confession lost in the hum of the surrounding conversation.

Stell's discomfort was palpable, his eyes darting around the room, a clear sign of his acute embarrassment. He shrugged, a helpless gesture.  "...and I guess you probably know the reason."  His companions mirrored his actions, their gazes fixed on Pablo before a chorus of knowing nods confirmed their understanding.

Pablo hated being the center of attention. The spotlight, even a small one, felt like a suffocating weight.  He stood abruptly, excusing himself without waiting for a response.  He turned and walked away, leaving the unspoken question hanging in the air, a silent testament to a shared past and an enduring, if slightly awkward, connection.